Prodigal Daughter
by TdeAlba
Summary: Five years ago Natalie left town with hardly a word. Now she's back, but what is she hiding, and why did she leave in the first place.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimers: **I don't own them. And that's probably a good thing.

**Author's Note: ** A note on timeline—as I said, I started this about two years ago, though I didn't do much writing on it till winter 2006. I've updated a lot to mesh with current continuity, but there were some things that didn't fit and I liked my version better than the actual one. So either this diverges with our continuity before the Jolie break up or there was a reunion of sorts shortly afterwards.

Also, I beg you to be patient with this one and let things play out before you start throwing tomatoes. You'll get the info you need eventually. And remember, no one in this fic knows as much as they think they do.

* * *

John McBain could hear faint sounds coming from inside the office; his target was in there. "Finally," he thought. These break-ins had been making his life miserable over the last couple weeks. It was hard dealing with cases involving large corporations under the best circumstances, but when the corporation was the 'family business' of the most powerful family in town, and when your boss just happened to be a member of said family… Well he hadn't been getting much sleep.

The door was open enough for him to slip through without touching it. He peered inside; there was someone at the safe. It was hard to make out the black clad figure in the dark, but it looked vaguely female. He crept closer, trying to move in silence, not wanting to reveal his presence till he was in striking range. He was almost within arms' reach when a floorboard under his feet creaked. The figure turned sharply and he saw two startlingly familiar eyes illuminated by the moonlight streaming in the window. He hadn't looked into them for five years, but they'd haunted his dreams most every night since then. No. It couldn't be.

"Natalie?" he said, almost dropping his gun in shock.

Before his brain could fully register what was going on he heard her mumble, "Shit!" and saw her shift her weight back onto one leg as the other one rose. Then he felt a screaming pain course through his jaw.

* * *

When he next opened his eyes he was flat on his back with a paramedic looking down at him. "He's awake," the man said as John tried to sit up.

"Don't try to get up," the paramedic said trying to push him back down.

"I'm fine," he said firmly, rubbing his jaw as he spoke. It hurt like hell but he was pretty sure it wasn't broken. Where the hell had she learned to do that? Looking around the room, he saw four uniformed officers, a couple of BE security guards and Clint Buchanan.

"What happened, Lieutenant?" one of the cops said coming closer.

"I found our burglar," he said, "opening the safe. Shouldn't have gone in without back-up, I guess… caught me off guard…" He wasn't sure which was muddling his thoughts more—the blow to his head or the shock of seeing Natalie again, where he'd least expected to see her.

"Did you get a good look at his face?" the cop asked.

"Her," he said, "It was a woman."

"A woman?" Clint asked stepping forward, "Did you recognize her?"

He looked up into Clint's face; how did he tell him that the person who had been raiding Buchanan Enterprises offices over the past several weeks was the daughter who had essentially dropped off the face of the earth five years earlier? He couldn't do it; as much as he knew it violated the standards of his job, he couldn't say anything until he knew more. "Didn't get a good look," he finally said, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," he said.

"If it's any consolation we don't think she got what she was after," another one of the officers said, "you probably interrupted her and she had to take off before she was finished."

John forced his way up to his feet and helped the other cops finish up with the crime scene, not that he expected them to find anything. There hadn't been the slightest trace of evidence at the last three break-ins—something that made perfect sense now that he knew the perp had forensic training. And besides, Natalie had always been good at anything she set her mind to and he doubted this would be any different.

* * *

His head was still reeling and his jaw was still throbbing as he unlocked his door. Maybe it was the events of the evening and maybe it was just the absurd way their relationship had always played out, but he couldn't bring himself to be surprised when he walked in and found her sitting in his apartment.

Her hair was brown; that startled him a little bit. He hadn't noticed in the dark office and part of him was grateful for the change; if she didn't look like _his_ Natalie it would be easier not to treat her as such. Unfortunately, the dark hair only made her eyes stand out more which was going to make them harder to resist. "You're home faster than I expected," she said with a smile.

"You changed your hair," he said, matching her blasé attitude, "what happened? Jones prefer brunettes?"

She gave him a look of confusion for a moment as though she had no idea why he would ask such a question before shrugging. "I wouldn't know. Red hair's too distinctive, makes it harder to blend in."

"Especially when you're breaking in to your family's offices."

Her sly look turned to one of concern, "How's the jaw?"

"Not broken," he said turning his back to her. He couldn't bring himself to kick her out, much less arrest her as he probably should, but he couldn't bear to look at her anymore.

"I'm sorry," she said, "I didn't mean to—you startled me."

He turned unable to stop himself from reacting to her last comment. "I startled _you_?" he asked, "I'm not the one who took off five years ago only to show up breaking into my own family's business. How did you get in here anyway?"

"Turns out Roxy still leaves the cabinet with the spare keys unlocked," she smiled.

"Better question," he said putting his hands on his hips, "_why_ are you here?"

"Well I was in town, heard an old friend of mine had gotten beat up and I wanted to see how he was doing," she said nonchalantly.

Rubbing his jaw subconsciously he snapped, "Cut the crap, Natalie. Why are you here?"

"I need to know what you told them," she said soberly.

"Told who?" he asked.

"My uncle," she said, he could hear urgency rising in her voice, "What did you put in your report? Have you talked to my family about the break-ins? Did you tell them it was me?"

"Your father was there when I woke up." She tried to hide it but he saw her shudder slightly at the revelation; he wasn't quite sure what it meant that after everything she'd done, she still worried about her father's approval. After letting her sweat a moment longer, he said, "I told them the perp was a woman, but that I didn't get a good look at her."

She shut her eyes and let out a deep sigh. "Thank you," she said softly.

"I didn't do it for you," he said quickly, "I just didn't think your family needed to hear that their missing daughter was rummaging through the family safe."

"You're right," she said, "they don't."

"I did you a favor," he said, trying to keep his anger under control long enough to get the information he needed, "Maybe you could do one for me."

"Maybe," she said reassuming her coy attitude.

"Tell me what the hell you're up to."

She shook her head, "Sorry. That would take all night and you and I really aren't in a place where we need to be spending the night together."

"How about the cliff notes version?" he said undeterred.

"Suffice it to say it's not as bad as it looks," she said standing up and moving towards the door.

He blocked her way with his body. "No, it doesn't _suffice it to say_."

She made a noise of frustration. "John-"

"Or how about this?" he said looking steadily into her eyes, "Give me one reason why I shouldn't arrest you."

"Wow," she said with a bitter laugh, "this is just like old times. It's been a while since you said those words to me. Really brings me back."

He took a breath, reminding himself that letting his own bitterness take over wouldn't get him anywhere. Maybe there was just part of him that refused to believe that Natalie could do this. She got in over her head and she made bad decisions, but most of the time her motives were pure. But he also knew she'd go to any limit for the people she loved. He just hated thinking about who she loved these days. He forced himself to meet her eyes. "Is this really the kind of life you wanted? He's got you stealing from you family."

"I haven't stolen anything from them," she insisted, backing up from the force of his words, "and John, seriously, if I wanted to steal from them, you know I could find easier, more profitable ways of doing it."

"So why have you been cracking open their safes?" he asked.

"First of all, let's make it clear those are Buchanan Enterprises safes, it's not as though they belong personally to my family," she said.

"Is that what you tell yourself to get to sleep at night?" he asked.

"With the hours I work, I do most of my sleeping during the day," she replied without flinching.

He shook his head. "The cuteness isn't going to get you anywhere," he assured her, "I know you too well. I know when you're trying to hide something. And I have to wonder, with everything I already know, what could be so bad you'd still want to hide it from me?"

"Maybe I just enjoy the game?" she suggested.

Not allowing her to rattle him, he said, "Look I'll help you, but you have to let me. If you're in danger of any sort…"

"I'm not the one in danger," she said.

He took his time, examining her face before deciding she was speaking honestly. "Then who is?"

"Buchanan Enterprises," she said.

"In danger… from you?"

"You got me all wrong, McBain," she said, "whatever issues I have with my family, it's in my best interests to keep the family business solvent. Which is what I've been trying to do."

"By breaking in and-?"

"By trying to track down the person who's been leaking corporate secrets to the competition," she explained.

"I suppose it would have just been too logical to go to the police?" he asked, folding his arms across his chest, still not entirely convinced.

She pretended to mull this over before saying, "Well see the thing is, me and the Llanview Police Department have a messy relationship. I used to work there until I got caught stealing evidence from a crime scene. And on top of that, the commissioner's friends with my parents and he's likely to tattle on me if he finds out where I am. Plus, I used to date the chief of detectives and it was a really messy break up so…"

"So you kicked him in the face and let yourself into his apartment?" he finished for her.

"Pretty much," she said with a grin.

"What am I supposed to do with all this, Natalie?" he asked.

"What I'd like to propose is a little information sharing," she said, "I'll give you the information I have about this corporate spy, and you let me see your files on the break-ins so I can see if there's anything at all that will help me out."

"And what do I tell Bo about this?"

"Nothing," she said emphatically, "Uncle Bo can not know that I'm involved. No one in my family can."

"You realize this is illegal," he said.

"I'm willing to bet they'll turn a blind eye to that if it helps you catch a criminal," she said.

He shook his head. "I don't know. I have to think about this."

"Fine," she said with a curt nod of her head, "I figured you might. Just promise me you'll tell me your decision first. Before you talk to Bo or anyone else about me."

"How do I get a hold of you?" he asked.

"I'll call you in a few days," she said, "you can let me know then." She turned and walked towards the door.

"That's it?" he called after her, "nothing else you want to say."

When she turned back around she had a wistful look on her face and he thought he caught the glimmer of a tear for a moment. "I'm sorry for knocking you out," she said as she opened the door and slipped out of it.

His first impulse was to follow her—not to go running after her, but to try to track her back to wherever she was going. From an investigative standpoint it would have been the smart thing. But there were answers he knew he really didn't want and a lot of them had to do with where she was living, with who, and what her life was like. When she'd walked out of his life five years earlier he'd decided not to go after her and he saw no reason to change that decision now.

* * *

Despite her promise, she didn't call. He didn't quite know what to make of that, but it only took him a week to track her down. More accurately, it took him three days to track her down after the four it took for him to make up his mind to do so. Once he started looking, she was surprisingly easy to find; so much so that he could almost kick himself for not searching for her before. But then he remembered there were reasons he'd let her disappear all those years ago.

Based on the timing and the frequency of the break-ins he figured she had to be working out of a location that was easy driving distance from Llanview. AC had been his first thought, but he turned up nothing there and decided it was probably too obvious anyway. That's when he found two apartments in River Valley, about an hour away, rented to a Natalia Buchannan. Her technique was so simple it was genius—close enough to her actual name she was probably able to use her actual IDs without anyone noticing and just different enough that she wouldn't show up in a basic computer search.

He drove there after work, exactly a week after the night he'd run into her at BE. He drove in circles around the town for nearly an hour before he convinced himself that going to her place was the right decision. It was just after 8:30 when he arrived at the apartment complex. The two apartments were in the same building and he took a guess that he would find her in the larger of the two. He took a deep breath before knocking, steeling himself for whatever, or whoever, he might find behind that door.

Natalie answered the door herself, dressed in sweats, that brown hair that he still found disconcerting thrown back into a messy ponytail. "John?" she gasped before she was able to cover her shock with the nonchalant attitude she'd had at their last meeting.

"You never called me," he said, "a guy could get his feelings hurt from something like that."

"You have feelings?" she asked dryly. Smiling at his glare she asked, "I guess you want me to be impressed you found me?"

"Not really," he shrugged, "it was pretty easy once I decided to do it. Never had much reason to look for you before."

"What are you doing here, John?" she asked folding her arms as he pushed his way past her.

"Oh, it's okay for you to show up at my place. Hell, to let yourself in. But I need a written invitation to come to yours?"

"I can't be seen in Llanview," she said, "I couldn't wait out in the hallway. And I needed to apologize for knocking you out and explain the break-ins and ask for your help. Why the hell are you here?"

"You were supposed to call," he said sullenly.

"I had to leave town unexpectedly," she said. "I just got back."

"This isn't going to work," he said, raising his voice, "you can't pop in and out of my life as it's convenient. You can't ask me to share my information with you when you're determined not to give up any of your information, you-"

"Would you keep your voice down!" she hissed glancing anxiously towards the bedrooms.

Something dawned on him and he glanced around the apartment. "We're not alone, are we?"

He could see her debating for a moment whether to deny it and finally deciding it wouldn't do any good. "No," she said, "we're not."

"Who is it?" he asked, motioning wildly with his hands, "Is it Vincent Jones the international fugitive himself? Or is it some new guy you've shacked up with? Let's see judging by your new line of work he must be-"

"Mommy?" a small voice behind him asked causing the rest of his next question to die in his throat. He turned to see a little girl with dark hair and round eyes standing in one of the doorways. "Mommy, why is he yelling?"

To be continued…


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's note: ** Thanks for the feedback on Chapter 1! I'm so sorry for not updating sooner—life got in the way.

* * *

_From Chapter 1_

Something dawned on him and he glanced around the apartment. "We're not alone, are we?"

He could see her debating for a moment whether to deny it and finally deciding it wouldn't do any good. "No," she said, "we're not."

"Who is it?" he asked, motioning wildly with his hands, "Is it Vincent Jones the international fugitive himself? Or is it some new guy you've shacked up with? Let's see judging by your new line of work he must be-"

"Mommy?" a small voice behind him asked causing the rest of his next question to die in his throat. He turned to see a little girl with dark hair and round eyes standing in one of the doorways. "Mommy, why is he yelling?"

* * *

**Chapter 2**

"Because his mommy never taught him to use an indoor voice," Natalie said lightly crossing to the girl and scooping her up. The girl wrapped her arms around her mother but kept her eyes on John who was still frozen and speechless staring at her. Two wide and dark eyes stared back at him. He would have guessed she was around four years old and she didn't look a thing like her mother.

_She must look like her father_.

The thought brought an instant pain to the pit of his stomach and he couldn't stop himself from wondering who her father was. Studying her features he didn't think there was any way it was Jones. Someone else then…

"Who is he?" the little girl asked staring back at him.

John met Natalie's eyes and he could tell she was trying to decide what to say. "This is John," she said finally, "He's an old friend of Mommy's. John, this is Larisa."

"Nice to meet you," John managed as the child nodded warily.

"John was just leaving," Natalie said giving him a meaningful look, "so why don't we get you right back to bed?" Her eyes pleaded with him to take the exit she'd provided and he was in no mental state to refuse.

"Right," he said turning to the door. As he opened it he turned and added, "I'll talk to you later."

"Of course you will," she said with a sigh as he closed the door behind himself.

* * *

That night seemed to last forever; he couldn't get their conversations over the last week out of his head. Couldn't stop seeing her blue eyes peering at him over the shoulder of that little girl. He'd dreamt more than once about their children and he couldn't deny that the knowledge she'd had someone else's child instead made him sick. He tossed and turned most of the night and when morning finally did come, signaled by a banging on the door, it was very unwelcome.

He staggered to the door and opened it to reveal Michael standing in the hall looking far too chipper. "What are you doing here?" he grumbled.

"Breakfast," he said, "It's Wednesday—we always do breakfast on Wednesdays."

"Right," he groaned. He hadn't forgotten their standing appointment, but he _had_ forgotten that it was Wednesday.

"Rough night?" Michael asked, looking annoyingly amused.

"Yeah, kinda," he said, "Let me jump in the shower. I'll be ready in fifteen minutes."

A short time later they were sitting in the Angel Square Diner, John trying to pretend he was interested in the food and conversation. He failed. No matter how much he tried to focus on the present, he found his mind wandering back to Natalie.

"Earth to Johnny!" Michael said waving a hand in front of his face.

"Huh?" he asked distractedly.

"I don't know where you've been," Michael said, "but it sure hasn't been having breakfast with your brother. What's going on?"

John hesitated; for a variety of reasons, Michael wasn't exactly who he wanted to talk to about this, but on the other hand, there was no one else he could talk to. The only other person in town he felt remotely comfortable opening up to was Bo and the last thing he needed to do was talk to a member of Natalie's family. "I saw Natalie," he finally said.

Michael's eyes widened. "She's back?"

He nodded. "Sort of. I caught her breaking into Buchanan Enterprises last week. She laid me out flat with a kick to the jaw."

"Wait a minute," Michael said, "BE… Natalie's the one behind the break-ins?"

"Looks that way."

"And yet, the paper still says you're looking for the perp," he pointed out, "If you know who it is why doesn't…?" Michael trailed off, noticing the way his brother was poking at his eggs, refusing to make eye contact. "Oh please don't tell me you covered for her. Come on, Johnny, after what she did to you?"

"Look by the time I woke up she was long gone and her father was there," he said, "I didn't think it was worth upsetting her family until I had a better idea what was going on."

"Did you tell Bo at least?" Michael asked in a hushed whisper.

John shook his head. "Not yet. He's her uncle, they were close, it would…"

"Geez, Johnny," he said sounding stunned, "she's back in town a couple days and she already has you helping her cover up crimes."

"I haven't covered anything up," John said, looking around to make sure no one was listening to them, "It's still an open investigation. I'm still looking into it."

"But I can't help noticing you haven't arrested her," he said, "or at least brought her in for questioning."

"Not yet," he asked, "I can't bring her in unless I'm sure and-"

"You saw her, John," Michael exploded, "how much more sure can you be?"

"Could you keep it down?" John hissed, "I need to make sense of it first and so far I can't do that."

"Well that's your first mistake," Michael said rolling his eyes, "expecting anything having to do with Natalie to make sense."

"It's not like that," he insisted, "she's got an excuse that actually sounds somewhat credible-"

"You talked to her?"

"Briefly," he nodded.

"And?"

"And my gut's telling me there's something more to all this. Something huge that I'm missing."

"You think Vincent Jones is behind all this?"

He shook his head. "She hasn't said anything about him and I haven't seen any sign of him. I don't really think he's involved."

"Wait a minute," Michael said, "you said she knocked you out—when did you have time to talk about all this.

"I tracked her down. It wasn't that hard once I looked." He left out the part about finding her in his apartment; something about that felt too intimate to share with his brother.

"I hate to ask," Michael said, "but how did that go?"

"We didn't get to talk much before her kid woke up," he said, "I couldn't stand there and fight with her in front of the kid, so I left."

"Natalie's got a kid now?" Michael's eyes widened again.

"Little girl," he sighed taking a sip of coffee.

"Jones's daughter?"

"I don't think so," he said, "she looked… well for lack of a more politically correct phrase, white."

He nodded, "That probably rules him out then. Although genetics can be tricky. How old is she?"

"I don't know," he said, "I'm not good with kids. Maybe four, five?"

Michael thought about this for a moment, his brow furrowed. "John… I hate to bring this up, but you don't think that's she left?"

"What?"

"The kid."

"What are you talking about?" John asked blankly.

His brother gave him an exasperated look. "Come on, I know I'm the smart one, but please don't tell me you haven't done the math on this one."

"Apparently I haven't," he asked poking absent-mindedly at his food again.

"If the kid is between four and five, when must it have been conceived?"

"Right after she left," he said, wondering if his brother thought he wanted to contemplate the idea of Natalie being with another man right after breaking it off with him.

"Or right before," he added.

John looked up at him, stunned by the suggestion. "No," he said, "no. She wouldn't-"

"It would explain a lot," he said.

"What the hell would that explain?" John demanded. His anger wasn't with his brother, but that didn't stop him from directing it at him.

Michael shifted uneasily. "Well it's just… You know I haven't had a lot of positive things to say about Natalie since she walked out on you like that, but she loved you."

"And then she changed her mind," he said bitterly, "it happens. People fall out of love."

"Not just like that," Michael said.

"You and Marcie did," he pointed out.

"No, we didn't," his brother said quickly.

"Oh, I just imagined that divorce?"

"No," he said, "but that doesn't mean we didn't still love each other. We just couldn't work through all the pain after losing Tommy. But that doesn't mean that if she walked through that door I wouldn't want to take her in my arms and hold her again."

"Well this is different," John grumbled.

Michael raised an eyebrow. "You gonna tell me you don't have any feelings for Natalie anymore?"

"I'm not gonna talk to you about my feelings," he said bluntly.

"I wouldn't expect anything else," he said rolling his eyes, "but think about it, the whole thing never made sense. I mean she stuck with you through your worst, and believe me your worst was pretty bad."

"Thanks for reminding me," he sighed.

"I'm just saying," Michael continued, "She forgave you for Vegas, she forgave you for Cristian. Sat by your bed for months after the accident. Put up with your moods, which I don't know if I could have done if I had lived with you. Then after you've recovered, resolved everything with Truman, solved his murder, broken up, gotten back together, all of a sudden she takes off to go on the run with a guy like Vincent Jones?"

"Like you said," John shrugged, "this is Natalie we're talking about. Don't try and make sense out of it."

"Okay, but is there any chance… what if Natalie took off because she was pregnant?"

"Why would she do that?" he said, "we were back together, things were good. Why would she leave?"

"Well," Michael sighed, "It's Natalie. Maybe she didn't think you were ready to be a father. Maybe she wasn't ready to be a mother or she didn't want people thinking she'd trapped you into marrying her. Or maybe… maybe you weren't the father. I don't know, but the timing seems a little too much of a coincidence."

"No," he said again after contemplating it, "I could believe a lot of things about Natalie but-"

"She's already done a lot of things you didn't think she was capable of," he pointed out.

"How dare you!" a feminine voice demanded from behind him. He twisted to see Jessica Buchanan, her face twisted in anger.

"Hi Jessica," Michael said awkwardly.

She shook her head and scowled at them as she walked to the side of the booth. "How dare you sit here and trash my sister's name after everything you did to her!"

"That's not what we were doing," John said.

Jessica showed no sign of hearing him as she continued, "You drove her out of town, away from her family. Wasn't that enough for you?"

"Jessica, maybe you missed it, but she's the one who dumped him for another guy," Michael pointed out.

"After months, years, of being treated like dirt by him," she said, "Who could really blame her?"

John took a deep breath; this was hardly his first confrontation with Jessica on this particular topic. The rest of the Buchanans had been understanding, even sympathetic, but Jessica still blamed him for Natalie's departure. "Look, Jessica-" he tried to begin.

She cut him off. "I know my sister. She doesn't just give up on people. So if she left you, it's because you gave her a damn good reason."

"Well if I did, I'd love to know what it was," he said.

"I don't know," she said shaking her head, "all I know is, I spent the first twenty-one years of my life without my twin sister because of one psycho. And now I've spent the past five without her again because of you." And with her final accusation she turned on her heel and stormed from the diner.

"You know not to listen to that, right?" Michael said.

"I can't really blame her," he said.

"Look regardless of whatever else might be going on here, Natalie left you, not the other way around," he said earnestly.

John didn't respond; there was no way to articulate to Michael that in a lot of ways Natalie had stayed with him the past five years. He drained his coffee cup—he was going to need it. This was going to be a long day.

* * *

Even after all these years he'd never stopped dreaming of her beside him in bed. Sometimes, early in the morning, in that place between waking and sleeping, he would let himself get lost, indulging in the memories.

_It was a wonder they ever got to work on time; he always found her so irresistible first thing in the morning. He'd wake to the warmth of her body beside him, the feel of her skin against his and he couldn't just get out of bed without savoring their last few moments alone. He'd begin slowly, running his fingers over her arms, down her torso. A feather light touch that her body responded too, but which rarely woke her. Then he'd begin to taste her, moving his lips over the crook of her neck and down to the top of her nightgown until he could feel from the motions of her body that she was awake too. First their lips would meet and then their tongues as he rolled on top of her, spreading her legs gently and positioning himself between them. _

_He relished in the memory of her curves and the way they felt as he ran his hands along the outline of her body. It was only when his fingers struck the rough texture of denim that it occurred to him there was something wrong with this fantasy._

He opened his eyes to find himself staring back into the blue eyes of a very real, fully dressed Natalie. "Hi," she said dryly as he pulled back.

"What the hell are you doing?" he demanded rolling off of her.

"Where I was it really felt like you were doing most of the… doing," she said, an amused look on her face as he climbed out of the bed.

"You just let yourself into my apartment while I'm sleeping and crawl into my bed?" he asked, incredulous.

"I sat on your bed," she corrected, "while I waited for you to wake up. How was I supposed to know you still woke up like… that?" With her last word she made a gesture with her hand to his very obvious erection.

John flushed with a mixture of anger and embarrassment as he tried to will his body to calm itself. "You shouldn't be in here at all," he reminded her, "you have no right to just come in here and-"

"And you had no right to show up at my place and scare the hell out of my daughter, but that didn't stop you!" she shot back.

"Your daughter," he mumbled softly, remembering the question that had plagued him as he went to bed the night before. "How old is Larisa?" he asked.

Natalie smiled tautly realizing immediately what he was getting at. She'd known this question would come up eventually. "She's almost five. Why?"

He nodded slowly, processing this. It fit with his brother's speculation, but he still wasn't sure whether to believe it. "Michael and I were talking-"

"You told Michael about me?" she asked angrily.

"Don't worry," he assured her, "he's not going to say anything. But he said something I haven't been able to get out of my head, so maybe you can give me some peace of mind."

"Maybe," she said folding her arms defiantly across her chest, "though if I managed to give you peace of mind that would be a hell of a change."

"It's about Larisa," he began slowly.

"I figured," she said curtly, "Go ahead."

"Who's her father?" he asked, not sure if he really wanted the answer.

"It's not you," she said.

He closed his eyes; not sure if that was the answer he wanted or not. Natalie hadn't kept his daughter from him all these years, but that meant she'd had another man's baby. Another man she must have met almost immediately after leaving him.

"Aren't you going to ask me who is?" she asked.

He shook his head. "I don't really want to know."

She laughed bitterly. "This always was your biggest flaw as a detective, John."

"What?"

"You can find the answer to any question you go looking for," she said, "but you never knew what questions to ask."

"And what question _should_ I be asking?" he shot back.

"Why don't you try asking me who her mother is?" she said with a smile.

To be continued…


	3. Chapter 3

The next day John sat in his office going through the folder Na

**Disclaimers:** I don't own the characters. I guess technically I own Larisa, but I really have no use for a small child, so you're welcome to her if you want her.

**Author's note: **Thanks so much for the feedback on this one. I can't tell you how much it means. I'm trying not to delight too much in your confusion… This chapter's a little short, but it had to be so that the next chapter break would work like I wanted.

Enjoy.

_From Chapter 2_

"Who's her father?" he asked, not sure if he really wanted the answer.

"It's not you," she said.

He closed his eyes; not sure if that was the answer he wanted or not. Natalie hadn't kept his daughter from him all these years, but that meant she'd had another man's baby. Another man she must have met almost immediately after leaving him.

"Aren't you going to ask me who is?" she asked.

He shook his head. "I don't really want to know."

She laughed bitterly. "This always was your biggest flaw as a detective, John."

"What?"

"You can find the answer to any question you go looking for," she said, "but you never knew what questions to ask."

"And what question _should_ I be asking?" he shot back.

"Why don't you try asking me who her mother is?" she said with a smile.

**Chapter 3**

He blinked at her. "Her mother…?"

"Is not me," she explained, "not in biological terms anyway."

"She's adopted?" he asked. He hadn't even considered the possibility that the child was adopted. It didn't make much sense with her living a life on the run that she would stop and take the time to adopt a child, but then nothing about this made sense.

"Yes," she said her tone slightly harsh, "and her life before she got to me was something of a nightmare which is why she gets scared when she hears raised voices. Do you have any idea how long it took me to get her to sleep?"

"I'm sorry," he said sinking down on the couch, "I had no idea she was there."

"I know," she sighed sitting beside him, "There's an awful lot I could and have said about you, but I know you would never deliberately terrorize a child."

"How long have you had her?" he asked turning to look at her.

"About two and a half years," she said.

"Your family doesn't know about her?"

"I didn't come here to talk about them," she said quickly, standing up again, "You still haven't told me, are you going to help me on this case or not?"

"I was coming to tell you the other night, but I guess we got a little sidetracked when you kicked me out," he said.

"You deserved it," she said without hesitation, "so what did you decide?"

"I don't know, Natalie," he groaned, running his fingers through his hair, "I… I don't think I'm the right person for this job."

She studied him silently for a moment. "Huh," she finally said, "I never would have thought it. I mean you were always the one onto me, telling _me_ not to let my personal feelings interfere with my ability to work a case."

"That's not what I'm doing," he said.

"You mean to tell me you would still be turning down help on this case if it came from another source?"

He shook his head. "The thing is I've solved my case. My case was to figure out who was behind the break-ins at Buchanan Enterprises and it turns out it's you. I should just arrest you and wash my hands of it."

"You got your handcuffs on you?" she asked raising an eyebrow, "it could be fun. Old time's sake and all that."

"You know perfectly well I'm not going to arrest you or you wouldn't have come back here," he snapped.

"True," she admitted, "but I _don't _know what you've decided to do about the case, so why don't you just tell me and you can get me out of your hair? Or wherever I am right now in your body."

"Tell me why I should." He meant it. He really wanted her to give him a reason. He wanted to help her, but he had to be able to justify it. The truth was, this _was_ personal. Anyone else would have been in jail by now and he hoped deep down she knew that. But he needed something else to tell himself. Something that could justify his actions to the part of his brain that needed logical explanations.

"Okay," she nodded, "I wanted to avoid playing this card if I could because I figure it's still a sensitive issue. This spy's been with BE for a while. He's the one who sold inside information to Spencer Truman."

John looked at her wondering if this was another ploy; she of all people knew how much that name affected him. "You're sure?"

She nodded. "I've seen emails from then and now. He uses the same language, codes, there's no doubt in my mind it's the same person."

"So why are you so determined that your family not find out? It seems to me they'd be thrilled you're doing this."

She shook her head vigorously. "No. Not until I know who it is and I can prove it."

"I don't understand," he said, "Do you think they're going to tip him off?"

"No, of course not," she said, "I can't let them know because Spencer did a great job of covering his tracks the last time. He set things up so that even if someone figured out that there was a spy, they'd never figure out who it was."

"So?" he shrugged, not understanding why this was a problem.

"Keep in mind that Truman was out to hurt my family in any way he could," she said. He nodded that he was following her so far. "So in addition to covering his tracks as well as those of his accomplice, he set things up so that if anyone did go looking it would look like the spy had been my nephew Duke."

"Are you sure it wasn't?" he asked, hating that he had to suggest something so hurtful.

"Positive," she said, "if for no other reason than he's dead and this spy is clearly still alive. But Duke's name still brings back a lot of painful memories for my family. I can't let them see this evidence and wonder, even if it's only for a moment. So I can't go to my family until I can prove who it really is. And eventually I'll do this on my own, but I'd really like it if I could have your help."

He stared at her evenly for a long moment, hoping he looked like he was thinking it over. There wasn't really much to think about, deep down he knew his decision had been made for him the moment he saw her at BE. "Okay," he said, refusing to allow himself to look at her, "But I can't let you see police files, that's out of the question."

"I figured," she said.

"But if you have information you'd care to share with me, I'll see what I can do to track this guy down," he conceded, "and… maybe we could bounce some ideas off of each other."

"I guess I'll take what I can get," she said standing up and walking to a briefcase she'd apparently left by the door while he was still asleep, "seems to be a theme between you and me." She opened the briefcase and pulled out a file folder which she brought to him. "That's everything we have on him so far-"

"We?" he asked.

Her eyes widened as she clearly realized she'd said something she hadn't meant to. She recovered her blasé attitude quickly and said, "You didn't think I was working alone, did you?"

"It _would_ be a first for you," he mumbled taking the file.

"Well I'll get out of here then," she said, "let you take that cold shower."

She started towards the door but he stopped her. He had to ask, even if it was about the one person he really didn't want to know about. "You going to tell him?" he asked.

"Tell who what?" she replied.

"Jones," he said, "I was just wondering whether you're going to tell him we kissed."

Her lips curled slowly into a smile. "It wouldn't bother him. Vincent doesn't have anything to be jealous about. He knows that."

"Funny," he said with a bitter laugh, "I remember when you were telling me that." Without another word of argument or defense she spun on her heel and walked out the door. John sank down on the couch with the folder, trying not to let his mind wander back to their last argument about Jones.

_It really wasn't his business, they'd broken up over a month ago, but it still drove him crazy to see her with Vincent Jones. So he tried to hide his jealousy under friendly concern, warning her of the dangers that could come from getting involved with a man like Jones. But she'd known exactly what was really bothering him. _

"_God John," she said shaking her head, "you are so transparent. This isn't concern for my safety, this is jealousy."  
_

"_Look believe what you want to believe, but-"_

"_He's just a friend, John," she said making a wild motion with her arm, "even if you had a right to be jealous, you don't even have anything to be jealous about!"_

"_I can't figure out if you're being naïve or just lying to me," he said, "but anyone can see that he wants you."_

"_So what if he does? Maybe I enjoy being reminded that _someone_ does!" she shot back._

"_You think I don't want you?" he scoffed._

"_You've made it very clear that you don't," she said, "so do me a favor and back off and let me get on with my life!"_

That argument had been the final straw. It was what made him finally realize he couldn't bear her moving on with another man. Made him realize he couldn't get on with his life if it didn't include her. The next morning he'd gone to her and apologized and told her how much he wanted her back. That night he'd proposed to her on their rooftop and they'd made love until dawn.

For the briefest of moments he actually dared to think their fights about Vincent Jones had been a good thing. But now all of those memories were tainted. Now he couldn't look back on any of them without wondering, had she known, even then, that she was leaving?

Out in the hallway Natalie took a deep breath and steadied herself against the door. She'd almost lost herself for a moment in his kiss and she was grateful that unlike his, her body didn't show the desire she felt for him at that moment. But it was the wounded look in his eyes as she left which nearly made her crumble. She hated hurting him, but she reminded herself that it was necessary. If he ever stopped being angry with her, he was likely to go digging and find out the real reason she left.

She took another breath; she needed to get out of the hotel before she was spotted. She slipped down the fire exit and out to the car she'd parked in the alley. Once she had it started and on the road she dialed quickly on her cell phone.

"What's up?" he man on the other end asked.

"I just talked to that contact in Llanview I told you about," she said, "He'll help us."

The next day John sat in his office going through the folder Natalie had left with him. She, and whoever she was working with, had compiled quite a lot of evidence but none of it pointed clearly to a single suspect. There were a collection of emails to potential customers for the information he was peddling and correspondence with his buyers, but they had all been sent from different computers. All the funds were delivered to anonymous off shore accounts. Solving this one, particularly without the Buchanan's knowledge and cooperation, was going to be tough.

He was almost grateful of the interruption of a phone call until he heard Bo's voice. "John, can you come in my office for a minute?" he asked.

John looked down at the print outs on his desk and momentarily panicked. Had Bo found out somehow what was going on? Forcing a deep breath he reminded himself that there were a hundred things Bo could want to speak to him about and it was unlikely it had anything to do with Natalie. "Yeah, I'll be right there," he said closing the folder and locking it in his desk. He walked to Bo's office and entered without knocking.

"Can you shut the door?" Bo asked. John nodded; apparently this was serious. He waited until John was settled in the chair across from him to continue. "I just got back from Atlantic City. They caught Vincent Jones last night, turns out he'd gone back there some time ago and was living under an assumed name."

"Really?" John said trying not to sound too interested.

"I went up there to question him about the pending charges here in Llanview," Bo explained, "but I won't pretend there weren't personal feelings involved."

John nodded, still trying to maintain a poker face as he continued.

"I'm not sure what to think about this," he said, "but Natalie's not with him." John prayed his boss would think his lack of reaction was due to his conflicted feelings about Natalie and not the fact that he wasn't remotely surprised to hear this. Bo went on, "We can't find any evidence that she ever was and he seemed confused by the mention of them ever being together. I know better than to just take his word for it, but I really don't think he was lying."

"That doesn't make sense," John managed to say. It wasn't a lie; it didn't, even if he knew a little more about the situation than he was letting on. None of it made sense.

"I know," he sighed. "And as much as I never liked the idea of my niece running around with a criminal like Jones, I'm even more worried now. I have no idea where she is or what she's up to and I don't know how to tell my brother that."

"You thinking of looking for her?" he asked, guessing he had just discovered the reason for his presence in the office.

"I wouldn't know where to begin," he admitted, "she calls her parents and Jessica occasionally but always from prepaid cell phones. They get emails, but they've never been able to trace an IP address. She doesn't want to be found and you remember how Natalie is when she's determined."

"You want me to start looking for her?" he asked, hoping Bo wasn't about to give him another official assignment he'd have to deliberately neglect. It was hard enough pretending that he was still tracking the BE safecracker.

"I shouldn't be asking you," Bo said, studying his face, "considering your history with Natalie. I know you were probably hurt more than anyone when she took off like that. But on the other hand, you probably knew her better than anyone and I don't know who else I can ask in an unofficial capacity and trust to do this. I need to find out where she is and why she really left."

Inwardly he cringed at the misplaced trust his boss and friend had for him. At least this wasn't an official assignment. Outwardly he nodded. "I'll see what I can find out."

"Thank you," Bo said, "you might start by talking to Balsom. If there's anyone she would have told the truth to, it would be him."

John tracked Rex down at Ultraviolet, it was early afternoon and the club wouldn't be open for several hours but he found the door unlocked. "We're closed," Rex called without looking up from where he sat at a table going over some papers.

"Good," he said, "I don't think either of us wants an audience for this conversation."

Rex looked up and raised an eyebrow. "This is an official visit?"

"Nope," he said, making his way slowly to the table, "this is an unofficial visit about unofficial business unofficially requested by Bo Buchanan."

Rex sat back in his chair and shuffled his papers into a file folder. "Okay, I'm listening."

"Vincent Jones was arrested in Atlantic City yesterday," he said.

Rex dropped the pen he was holding. "And Natalie?" he asked.

"Not with him," he said. "And according to Bo, Jones doesn't understand why we would have thought she would be. Seems he doesn't know anything about Natalie going on the run with him."

"Interesting," Rex said assuming a well practiced poker face.

"Her uncle asked me to see what I could find out, for the sake of her family. Where she is, why she left, that sort of thing."

"Sounds like a fun assignment for you," he nodded.

"And so the Commissioner and I were thinking and it occurred to us that if there's anyone she would have told the truth to, it would be you."

Rex was grateful he was talking to John McBain; if Bo had come in person, he might have been tempted to talk. To confess his responsibility for Natalie's sudden departure.

To be continued...


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's note: **Sorry about the long delay on this one. When I was writing it there didn't seem to be a lot of interest in Jolie, so I was only posting at the John and Natalie Fanfiction group at Yahoo. Since there seems to be a revival of Jolie interest now that they're interacting again on the show I figured I would go ahead and post the rest. A couple more answers in this chapter. Sorta. Enjoy. Besos. ~Dulce

_

* * *

From Chapter 3_

Rex was grateful he was talking to John McBain; if Bo had come in person, he might have been tempted to talk. To confess his responsibility for Natalie's sudden departure.

**Chapter 4**

_Natalie looked so happy when she knocked on his door, Rex almost couldn't tell her why he'd asked her over. She didn't deserve this—not after everything she and McBain had been through. She deserved a little bit of peace and happiness. But he'd also seen first hand what happened when people hid things from her for her protection; she'd had too much of that already._

"_So what did you need to see me about?" she asked._

"_Have a seat," he said motioning to the couch._

"_That sounds ominous," she said sitting down, toying absentmindedly with the ring on her left hand. She did that a lot since McBain had finally put it back on her finger. Damn, she didn't deserve this._

_He didn't correct her conclusion because it wasn't wrong. "I got a hold of a bunch of Truman's old files," he said, "Bo asked me if I would do what I could to help put right some of the things he did."_

"_Good for you," she said, "is there something I can help with?"_

"_Um… sort of," he said picking up the file, "something I thought you should know about."_

_He handed her the file and she began looking through it; he could see the moment she realized what it was in the file she needed to see. "No…" she said in a voice just above a whisper._

John could see from his lack of reaction that Rex knew something, but what he couldn't tell. "So what about it, Balsom? You have any idea why Natalie left town?"

"Maybe," he said, "but if Natalie wanted you to know, she would have told you."

"And what about her family?" John asked, "Don't they deserve to know where she is, how she's doing?"

"Maybe," Rex nodded again, "but you're not her family. You had a chance to be and you dragged your feet and you jerked her around-"

"I seem to remember right before she left town she was wearing my mother's engagement ring," he protested.

"And yet, when she told you she was leaving town with another guy you were oh so ready to believe it. And could you be bothered to look for her, to go after her? No!" he spat out at him angrily.

"I was trying to do what she wanted," John said wondering how he'd managed to become the villain when _she_ had walked out on _him_.

"Bullshit," Rex said, "you were doing what you always do and doing your self-absorbed, brooding thing. And if you were willing to believe that Natalie was capable of leaving you after everything just for some passing attraction, then that's the only truth you deserve."

John nodded. It was clear this wasn't going anywhere and it wasn't going to. He couldn't completely blame Rex for his anger anymore than he could blame Jessica for her bitterness; if he'd ever had a sister, he suspected he would have been just as protective. And when it came down to it, Balsom was right. In retrospect, he could see how stupid he'd been to blindly accept a story that fantastical. At any rate he was going to find the truth now.

"Well thanks for your time, Balsom," he said standing up, "if you think of anything you'd like to share, give me a call."

* * *

As the uniformed policeman let him into the ACPD interrogation room his pulse started racing and he realized it was too late to turn back. He was going to have to talk to this man. The man who took Natalie away from him. This man he'd spent the past five years hating for reasons which it turned out might have been largely unfounded. That didn't mean Vincent Jones wouldn't know exactly how to get under his skin, he always had, so controlling his temper was going to be difficult.

Jones was already sitting at the table, his head propped up in his hands and he turned a smarmy grin to John when he walked into the room. "Well this is a surprise," he said, "John McBain, here to see me. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I have some questions to ask you," he said sitting down across from him.

"Really?" Vincent said, taking his time in talking, "Well that's strange because the last I heard the LPD had agreed to let AC have first crack at me since the majority of my alleged crimes were committed here. My understanding is that you all only get into the game if there's anything left of me when they're done up here. And even if that happens, you've got the better than a year to wait. Are you really _that_ eager?"

"I'm here as a personal favor to Bo Buchanan," he explained.

"Commissioner Buchanan was here a couple days ago," he said, "I thought we talked about everything we needed to."

"This isn't about your case," he said, "It's about Natalie."

"Natalie," Vincent repeated, swirling her name around in his mouth, "how is she these days?"

"I was hoping you could tell me," he said keeping an icy tone to his voice.

"I've been hoping that same thing since the day we met, but it-" he cut himself off as he finally realized what was going on, "except if you're asking me, that must mean she isn't with you anymore."

"Right," John said, clenching his hands into fists.

"So Natalie finally wised up and dumped your sorry ass," he said smiling, "As exciting as that is, I still don't get what it has to do with me."

"Five years ago she disappeared, leaving behind a note that said she was running off with you," he explained, "you know anything about that?"

Vincent laughed out loud. "You're kidding, right? She literally 'Dear John'ed you? Sorry I wasn't there to see the look on your face."

"I'm so glad you find it amusing," he seethed, "any information you have about that letter-"

"This is the first I've heard of it," he said, "unfortunately for me. Maybe she just got sick of putting up with your shit and wanted to get out on her own."

"Look this isn't about me," John said taking a deep breath to keep himself calm, "I know how you feel about me, but if you know anything, her family at least-"

"Relax detective," Vincent said with a laugh, "I'm not lying to you. Not that I wouldn't if she asked me, but I'm not hiding Natalie. I haven't seen her since before I left Llanview. I have no clue why she left or where you can find her now."

"Oh I know where she is now," he said, unable to resist rubbing in his superior knowledge on this one topic.

"You do?" he asked dubiously.

John nodded. "I've seen her."

"Then why are you here?" he asked, the jovial quality slipping out of his voice to show his true irritation.

"Like I said," he repeated, "A personal favor to Bo Buchanan. I'm just trying to get to the bottom of why she lied and why she really left."

Vincent laughed again. "Well I can't help you. I guess you're just going to have to do what you never could before."

"What's that?" he asked leaning back in his chair.

"You're going to have to talk to the girl."

John waited a moment before speaking, partially to make Jones squirm but mostly to give himself time to steady his voice. "We're done here," he finally said in an even voice, "Guard?"

Vincent was right. John hated it, but he couldn't deny it. If he wanted to know the truth about why Natalie left him and why she'd said it was to be with Vincent, he would have to ask her.

It would have saved time to go directly to her place, but he didn't. Instead he went back to his room and back to the third drawer of his dresser where he'd carefully placed everything she'd left and all the physical remnants of their relationship. That was two days after she'd left; he spent the first in an alcoholic haze.

Three days after they'd gotten engaged the Atlantic City Police Department announced it had a warrant for the arrest of Vincent Jones on a host of charges including extortion, racketeering, and one murder charge. Natalie was upset when she heard, but he didn't think anything about it. Jones was her friend, whether John liked it or not. She said she hoped that Vincent would turn himself in and that she was sure he was innocent of most of the charges.

But he didn't. By the time anyone actually got to his place, Jones was long gone. Again Natalie was upset, concerned for her friend. Hoping he would be brought in wearing a pair of handcuffs, not in an ambulance after being shot by a pursuing officer.

The ACPD wasn't able to find him and inwardly John was grateful that Llanview hadn't charged him yet. He didn't want to deal with the complication it would cause between him and Natalie if he had to be the one to arrest her friend.

Eight days later she didn't meet him for dinner like she was supposed to and calls to her cell phone went straight to voicemail. He was worried and rushed back to their room at the Angel Square Hotel where he found the engagement ring and the note explaining where she'd gone and why. Her mother, father, and Jessica had all received similar letters. No one wanted to believe them at first, until Rex came forward and confessed that he'd known for a couple days what she was planning. Rex would lie in a heartbeat to save his own ass, but he'd never do anything that he knew could hurt his sister. So they were left with no choice but to accept it.

John spent that night and most of the next day getting as drunk as he possibly could and when the pain was just as bad in the morning he'd cleaned out the room, putting every trace of her away in this dresser drawer. And then he'd shut down the part of himself that had belonged to her.

Reaching inside the drawer, he removed the note she'd left him that day. For the thousandth time at least, he reread it, hoping it would reveal to him some secret it had kept hidden for the past five years. When it didn't he folded it carefully and stuck it in his pocket. There was only one place he was going to get answers.

* * *

"John?" she asked, clearly surprised when he knocked on the door.

"Where's Larisa?" he asked before she had a chance to say anything else.

"Across the hall at my nanny's," she said, "I was working."

"Of course," he said out loud to himself, finally solving that nagging question, "That's who the second apartment's for."

"Who'd you think it was for?" she asked, "My personal sex slave?"

Ignoring her sarcastic question he said, "I'm glad she's out, we need to talk."

"Clearly. You can't keep showing up here like this," she said as she stepped aside to let him in, "someone's going to figure out what's going on."

"Too late," he said, stepping into her apartment.

"What?" she asked, panic rising to her eyes.

"Vincent Jones was arrested yesterday," he said.

"Really?" she asked. He could hear genuine concern in her voice, "How is he?"

"He's all right," he said, her reaction only increasing his bitterness, "roaches like him usually are. But that's not why I'm here. Everyone realizes now that you're not with him and your uncle asked me to find you."

"You didn't tell him?" she asked desperately.

"Not yet," he said, "the thing is… I know where you are. And I hate lying to Bo about it. But even more, I hate not knowing why."

"You know why," she said turning away from him and taking a few steps towards the living room.

"No," he said, "I don't."

"We've talked about it," she insisted.

"We've talked about what you're doing now. You're after a corporate spy," he nodded, "that makes sense and I'll be happy to help you in anyway I can. But that still leaves a lot of questions. Like why you left in the first place?"

"I'd rather not talk about that," she said.

Reaching into his pocket he pulled out the note and handed it to her. She recognized it almost immediately and even though she stared at it a moment she didn't need to read it. Even after all these years she remembered every word, she'd agonized over each one of them as she wrote it:

_Dear John,_

_I'm a coward for doing this in a note, but I know even in person there's nothing I can say that's going to make either one of us feel better about this. I won't ask you to forgive me because I know what I'm doing in unforgivable and I've accepted that. But I can't stay here any more. I can't deny my feelings for Vincent and I can't pretend that him leaving town didn't kill a part of me. We've been keeping in touch secretly since he left and I'm going to join him now. I beg you not to look for me. I'm sure you could find us if you really tried, but I'm not sure that would be a good thing for any of us. _

_I'm so sorry for all of this, but staying with you and feeling the way I do would be a lie. I know you won't believe this, but I do love you and I always will. Hopefully you'll find someone soon who can give you the life you deserve._

_Natalie_

"You saved it," she said, trying to keep her voice cold, "that's kind of creepy, you know that?"

He didn't volunteer that he'd saved a lot more than that note; that the drawer which had once been Caitlyn was now Natalie—filled with everything from photos to newspaper clippings to cocktail napkins and a tube of lipstick she'd once left at his place. "The thing is, I talked to Jones earlier and he doesn't seem to know anything about this."

She turned away from him. "John…" she said, pleading with him to drop this.

"I'm willing to help you on this case, but not blindly anymore. I think after everything, I have a right to know," he said softly, "If you wanted me out of your life, it's your right, but I don't think it's too much to ask that you give me an honest answer why. Why you didn't just end things. Why you left town and your family."

She took a deep breath. "Fine. You really want to know?"

He nodded.

"I left because of my daughter."

"You left because of Larisa?" he asked.

"I told you," she said softly, shaking her head sadly, "Larisa isn't really my daughter."

To be continued…


	5. Chapter 5

_From Chapter 4_

"I'm willing to help you on this case, but not blindly anymore. I think after everything, I have a right to know," he said softly, "If you wanted me out of your life, it's your right, but I don't think it's too much to ask that you give me an honest answer why. Why you didn't just end things. Why you left town and your family."

She took a deep breath. "Fine. You really want to know?"

He nodded.

"I left because of my daughter."

"You left because of Larisa?" he asked.

"I told you," she said softly, shaking her head sadly, "Larisa isn't really my daughter."

**

* * *

Chapter 5**

She crossed to the desk against the wall and pulled a file folder out of the drawer. Crossing to the coffee table she took out a mug shot and tossed it on the table. "Her name is Rhiannon," she said, "this is the most recent photo I have."

He barely glanced at the photo; it was a teenage girl, way too old to be Natalie's child. He wasn't sure why she was lying again, but he refused to get sucked into another one of Natalie's crazy stories so easily. He let out a scoffing laugh and shook his head in disbelief. "So you were what? Sixteen when she was born?"

"This picture's a couple years old," she said evenly, "I was fifteen actually."

He stared at her; she'd fooled him plenty of times in the past, but usually he could read her face. No doubt that was why she'd said goodbye with a letter the last time. This time he really didn't think she was lying. He picked up the picture and looked at it carefully. If he had any lingering doubts about this latest story, the girl's face erased them—the resemblance to Natalie was so strong that if he hadn't known better, he might have mistaken it for a picture of her in her younger days. Meeting her eyes he said, "You're not making this up."

She nodded. "I know you have every reason to doubt this, but believe it or not, I have been known to tell the truth occasionally."

"You have a daughter?" he said, still trying to wrap his head around this bombshell.

"Yes."

"You had one, all the time we were together?"

She closed her eyes and nodded. "Yes."

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked, still stunned.

"Because it was a part of my life I tried to forget," she said her voice cracking slightly.

"You were fifteen?" he asked.

"Barely," she said, "By about a week."

"I imagine at that age-"

"No you can't imagine," she said fiercely, "I was a child. I didn't think I was—I thought I was so grown up because I had to take care of myself and Rex until they took him away. But I wasn't ready for half the stuff I thought I was."

He gaped at her, trying to process the shock and the guilt he felt at bringing up what was obviously a painful topic. "If you don't want to talk about it…"

"No, you're right," she said sinking down on the couch, "You deserve to know."

He sat down beside her and waited for her to continue. She didn't look at him or the photo; she just stared off in the distance, speaking in a carefully measured tone. "I was in freshman gym and I fainted so they took me down to the clinic. The nurse figured it out pretty quick. Turns out I wasn't the first girl in school it had happened to so she kept a supply of pregnancy tests. When it came back positive I was just… petrified."

"Who was the father?"

"This guy named Craig Danaher," she said smiling slightly as she remembered, "I met him through some friends of mine—I always hung out with older kids. He had just graduated from our school. He was so cool—not in the football jock kind of way, but in the grunge, outcast way which I thought was so great back then. He was eighteen and-"

"Apparently didn't know anything about statutory rape laws," John interjected before he could stop himself.

"You understand you're older than he is?" she pointed out.

"I also understand you weren't fourteen when we got together," he said.

"You see, this is why I never told you," she said, shaking herself out of the memories.

"I'm not judging you," he tried to assure her.

"I know you're not, but you have to understand I wasn't a victim, John," she said, "Not of Craig anyway. If you want to blame anyone blame Mitch Lawrence, he's the one that took me out of my home and stuck me in one with a woman who had no idea how to raise a child. I grew up fast, John. Looking back, not nearly as fast as I thought, but I wasn't a normal fourteen year old. Craig didn't take advantage of me, if it hadn't been him, it would have been somebody else. It's not like he was my first. I was just trying to prove I was mature and grown up. It's funny though how that's all a lot less appealing when you have to deal with the grown up consequences."

Hearing the tears in her voice he impulsively reached out to take her hand and to his surprise she didn't jerk it away. "So what happened when you told Craig you were pregnant?"

"I didn't," she said, "He'd gone away to school by the time I found out and I didn't really have a way to get a hold of him. Besides, when he left he made it clear enough he didn't want me waiting around for him."

"So what did you do?"

"Well I couldn't tell Roxy. Back then she probably would have used it as an excuse to throw me out of the house. So the nurse at the school, she was really great and supportive, she set me up with this crisis center. And they explained all of my options to me, gave me a lot to read, introduced me to people who could talk to me about what they'd been through."

"I gather you decided on adoption?" he prompted gently when she trailed off.

"I couldn't keep the baby," she said, "I mean, raising another child in that house? Besides, I was a kid, and a poor one at that, there was just no way I could do it. Even if I'd wanted to, which I really didn't. And there was the money thing on top of it…"

"I think given the circumstances, it was probably the best choice you could have made," he said squeezing her hand.

"That's not all of it though," she said as a tear rolled down her face. "I've never told anyone this before and I have no idea why I'm telling you now but… it was mostly the money."

"Why you didn't keep it?"

"Why I didn't have an abortion," she said staring at her hands, "they told me that if I decided on a private adoption I could work it out so they paid all my expenses the whole time I was pregnant and then some. And I thought, 'Hey, if I have to go through this I might as well get something out of it.'" She turned tearful eyes to him and said, "I sold my baby. Who thinks like that? Who decides to have a baby for the money?"

John reached up and brushed away a tear from her cheek with his thumb. "You're not the first person," he said gently, "and you can't be so hard on yourself. You were a kid having to face things and make decisions no one that age should have to."

He couldn't tell if she really believed him, but she took a steadying breath and continued. "Anyway, this center helped me find a family to adopt the baby, the Griffiths. I met with them and they were great. They actually paid for me to live in an apartment near them while I was pregnant and they paid for all my groceries and medical bills. It was probably the best I'd ever lived until I found out I was a Buchanan."

"Didn't Roxy notice when you disappeared?"

Natalie snorted. "Roxy? I made up some story about how I'd gotten a scholarship to study abroad—she never questioned it. There were forms she had to sign because I was a minor and I told her they were just permission slips. She signed them without even reading them. I stayed in school for a while, but then when I started showing and people started asking questions I got self-conscious and the school arranged for a tutor to come to my apartment and teach me. I think they were only too happy to have one less pregnant fourteen year-old walking around the hallways."

"Did you have anyone you could talk to?" he asked, squeezing her hand and absurdly wishing he'd been there for her back then. "Friends or…?"

"I kept my distance from people back then," she explained, "I had people I spent time with, and maybe some of them suspected, but I never told anyone. I tried to pretend it wasn't real. When the baby was born, I never held her, I never saw her. I didn't even want to, I was just glad it was all over. A week later I was back at school and back at Roxy's like nothing had ever happened."

"But it must have affected you?" he said, "Something like that has to change you."

"I guess," she sniffed, wiping away tears, "but I tried to pretend it hadn't. It gave me some cash in an account Roxy didn't know about, but beyond that… I tried to forget about it." Reaching out he caressed her shoulder, but she brushed him away. "I signed my baby away and I never looked back. You know, other mothers give up their babies and they say they never stop thinking about them? It wasn't like that for me at all. I never thought about her at all, it was like that part of my life had just been a bad dream."

Holding her hand in both of his he said, "Having spent more time than I care to around shrinks, I think if you asked one of them, they'd tell you your mind was just dealing with it the only way it could. You weren't ready to handle something like that, especially on your own."

"I don't know," she said distantly, shaking her head, "I mean there were times… when I found out that I was a Buchanan and the people I thought were my family, weren't… I wondered if she would feel the same way when she found out she was adopted. And I wondered if things had been different—if I knew I was a Buchanan when I got pregnant would I have done the same thing? Every time my sister talked about the baby she lost, part of me wanted to tell her about the one I gave up, but I couldn't. And then that night when you told me that Jessica's baby would be lucky to have me in her life…"

"You never heard from the family who adopted her?"

"I wasn't an open adoption," she said, trying to sound matter-of-fact, "I waived my right to any contact with her."

He waited to see if she was going to say anything more, but she didn't. "I'm so sorry," he said wanting to comfort her and knowing how inadequate that was, "I had no idea."

"No one did," she said, "The only one who knows now is Rex and that's just because he stumbled onto it." She pulled her hand away and made herself more comfortable on the couch; it appeared story wasn't nearly over yet. "After Spencer died, Rex managed to get a hold of some of his files. It turns out Todd's son wasn't the only baby he sold. Spencer Truman had a long and profitable relationship with the black market baby trade. All his trips abroad on those philanthropic medical missions—most of them were to buy babies off poor women to sell back here. I don't know how he found out about Rhiannon, but just before he came to Llanview it seems he used the connections he'd made to take Rhiannon away from her adoptive parents and place her somewhere he didn't think I'd be able to find her. I guess she was a card he never got a chance to play."

"That bastard," John said. His hatred for Spencer Truman hadn't dissipated much in the years since his death, and learning that he had gone out of his way to hurt Natalie and her daughter only reintensified it.

"Basically," she agreed, "Like I said, Rex found records detailing all of this, so I went to California, to the family he'd given Rhiannon to, but I was too late. She'd run away. I found out that she'd gone back to her adoptive parents, wanting them to take her back. They wanted her back, they really did, but they honestly believed she'd been taken away by social services and they thought for her sake it was better to fight within the system to get her back. But when they told her she couldn't stay, she took it as rejection and she ran again."

"She was young to be on her own," John said, realizing immediately he was pointing out the obvious.

"Very young," she nodded, "which is why I had to find her. But she didn't want to be found and I looked and I looked. I was really starting to fear the worst when this mug shot surfaced. She was arrested in Chicago for shoplifting. Because she was a juvenile and because it was her first offense they released her to foster care. But she ran away again almost immediately."

"You have any idea where she is now?" he asked.

She shook her head. "But I'm going to find her. I have to."

John was quiet for a moment, still trying to absorb what he'd just found out. "I'm sorry, I'm missing something," he said, "how did you get from looking for her to tracking down a corporate spy?"

"Well for three years I couldn't find any information on her at all. It was starting to look like I'd never find her, so I decided if I couldn't help her, I could at least help the other people Spencer hurt. So after about a year I turned my attention to bringing down Truman's whole network. The baby smuggling, all the resources he'd used to go after my family, all of it."

"That's where you found out about this spy at BE?" he said, pieces slowly fitting into place.

"That's also where I got Larisa," she said with a slight smile. "I don't know if you noticed, she walks with a limp."

"I didn't," he said. He'd been so stunned by the child's presence that he hadn't noticed much else. Besides, Natalie had picked her up immediately.

"She was born with a defect of her hip joint," she explained, "nothing that couldn't be fixed with surgery, but I guess when you pay top dollar for a black market baby you want a perfect one. So for lack of a better phrase, the people Spencer sold her to sent her back and requested a new one. Spencer was stuck with a baby he knew he couldn't place in a normal home, so he sold her to a place that bought young girls for…" Natalie shivered involuntarily at the memory and trailed off, unable to articulate what would have happened to Larisa when she got older, but John got the general idea.

"So you rescued her?" he said.

"Yeah, I guess," she said, though she didn't seem particularly proud of herself, "Along with some people I've worked with we busted the place, found homes for all the girls. I tracked down her biological mother who turned out to be a teenage prostitute in Romania. I brought Larisa back to her and offered to pay for her medical bills, but she wasn't in any position to take care of her and she thought her little girl would have a better life in America."

"I imagine her situation must have struck a chord with you," he said.

She nodded slowly. "I knew I could afford to get her the best medical care around and it looked like I might never find my own daughter. So I thought, maybe, if I could help this girl it would make up for failing Rhiannon. Ironically, it was right after that that the mug shot surfaced."

"Wow," he said, unable to think of any other way to respond to all this.

"When I disappeared for a week after our first meeting at BE, that's where I was. I'd gotten a lead on her in Detroit, but it didn't pan out."

"Ah," he said, suddenly making sense of another mystery.

"So anyway," she said as she sat back on the couch and looked at John almost defiantly, "that's the whole story. Are you happy now?"

He shook his head. "There's just one thing that still doesn't make sense. Why lie about it? Why make up this whole story about running off with Jones? Did you think I wouldn't support you?"

"I knew you would," she said in a voice full of regret, "that's why I had to lie."

"I don't understand," he said slowly.

She took a deep breath. "If I had told you all of that, if I had told you I was going in search of my daughter, what would you have done?"

"I would have gone with you. I would have done everything in my power to help you."

"Exactly," she said, "and I couldn't let you do that. Spencer Truman ruled your life for over 25 years. Even before you knew his name, because of what he did to your father, your whole life revolved around him. You were finally past that. You finally had a chance to make a life for yourself, to have a future-"

"I wanted that future to be you," he interjected, "I wanted to make a life _with you_."

"I know," she said tearfully, "I wanted that too. I wanted it so badly… but I couldn't turn my back on my daughter again and I couldn't let Spencer Truman reach out from the grave and continue to run your life."

"So you thought it was nicer to me to make me believe you'd dumped me for another man?"

"I thought it was the only thing that would work," she said, "I thought about a billion other stories, but I knew you'd never accept them and you'd just come track me down. So I had to come up with the one betrayal you would never forgive."

"So lying to me, that was a favor?" he asked angrily.

She looked surprised at his reaction. "I was giving you the opportunity to move on," she said.

"Is that how little you thought of me? Of my feelings for you?" he asked, "you who know how hard it is for me to move on?"

"You did move on!" she exploded, "I kept reading the Llanview papers—I read all about it." She hadn't meant to lash out, she hadn't meant to say anything about that at all; the last thing she needed was for him to know how bitter she'd been over that for the past several years.

He narrowed his eyes and shook his head, "You don't know anything about that, don't pretend you do."

Choosing to abandon the subject she doubted either of them wanted to pursue, she took a deep breath and tried to speak calmly. "I knew it would be hard for you," she said, "but that eventually you'd…" She couldn't finish her statement. Not when eventually hadn't taken nearly as long as she'd expected, she couldn't talk about that. "Well it was better than the alternative—following me around for five years, trying to find a child that has nothing to do with you. Or waiting for me to come back when that might never happen."

"Either way," he said, "shouldn't it have been my choice?"

"Oh what?" she spat back, "like you and Cristian gave me a choice when you hid the fact that he was alive from me?"

"You just proved my point," he said, "think about how pissed you were when you found out. You barely spoke to either of us for months. And you basically did the same thing."

"It's not the same," she said, though the way she mumbled and stared at her lap told him she agreed with him more than she was willing to admit.

"You know," he said "you say you did this because you didn't want to let Spencer Truman keep running my life, but that's exactly what you did."

"What are you talking about?" she asked.

"You don't think he's sitting in Hell right now laughing his head off because he managed to break us up?"

"Yes, of course, John," she said, rolling her eyes, "let's make this about you."

"This isn't about me," he insisted, "it's about us. About the fact that you just gave up on us."

"That's not what I did!" she protested, "I put my daughter first, but that didn't mean that I didn't love you."

"Just not enough to trust me," he said softly shaking his head.

"I do trust you," she said with a deep breath, trying to calm herself, "more than anyone on earth. That's why I've trusted you with everything on this case."

"You know what?" he said, standing up, "maybe it's best if we just stick to that."

"What?" she asked standing up also and following him towards the door.

"Clearly you aren't comfortable including me in any other aspect of your life, so maybe we should just stick to that," he said, opening the door, "we can work on this case, stay professional, but beyond that..."

"John," she said in an exasperated sigh, but he was through talking. She'd just told him everything he'd believed about the past five years was a lie, but he didn't know what that said about them. He needed time to process this, to really think it over.

"I'll call you when I find something out," he said, slamming the door in her face behind him.

To be continued…


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's note: **Not a lot happens in this chapter. I promise I do know where I'm going with all these plot twists, but it's taking a while to get there. Thanks for your patience and thanks even more for your feedback. It helps keep me writing.

* * *

John was numb as he drove home. Later he could scarcely remember any of the hour long trip back to Llanview, and he knew he'd simply been on autopilot. He didn't know how to feel about this and he wished he could just _not_ feel about this. Over the past five years he'd gotten used to the idea that what he'd had with Natalie wasn't real. She'd never loved him the way he loved her or she couldn't have done what she did.

Now he was beginning to wonder if his Natalie had ever been real in the first place.

He'd always known about Natalie Balsom. That she existed and that she was reckless and wild. He caught glimpses of her every now and again in Natalie Buchanan, but he never thought about her extensively. He never thought she'd mattered.

But the whole time they'd been together she'd been hiding a child from him. All those years she'd spent pushing him to open up, she'd never hinted at the part of herself she kept tucked away.

A saner guy would be happy; he'd just found out that the love of his life had not, in fact, dumped him for another guy. So why was it easier believing that she had? At least when he believed she'd left him for Vincent, he could hate her for it. How could he hate her for trying to save her daughter?

And yet, he couldn't deny that at least part of him did. Of maybe it was just that part of him wanted to hate her, because it was easier than confronting how he actually felt.

Left alone in her apartment, Natalie allowed herself a moment to crumple on the couch. She'd let the tears collecting in her eyes run down her cheeks, but that was all she'd cry. Five years ago, when Rex had shown her the documents outlining everything Spencer had done and once she realized what she would have to do, she'd cried all her tears then. Cried the last tears she would ever cry over John McBain. He was a beautiful part of her past that she'd let go of for reasons she would never bring herself to regret.

Her cell phone rang, cutting short her self-indulgence. Dabbing her eyes she reminded herself that she wasn't that girl who had left Llanview back then anymore. She needed to pull herself together and get back to work.

"Hello?" she said quickly without checking the caller ID. Only a few people had that number so it didn't really matter much.

"Hey, minor problem," the voice on the other end said.

"Not another one," she groaned.

"We got outbid," he explained, "our rat found another buyer who was willing to pay more than we offered."

"Make another offer," she instructed, wondering why he hadn't already.

"This buyer's offering to pay up front," he continued, "more to the point, if we weren't spying, we wouldn't know about the offer so if we make a counter offer, we out ourselves."

"Has Jim had any luck figuring out who the buyer or the seller are?"

"Not so far."

"Shit," she mumbled, "I really didn't need this tonight."

"Look," he said slowly, perfectly aware of what her reaction would be, "Maybe we should go ahead and out ourselves. To the police, I mean. Go to the LPD, tell them what we know and let them take over."

She sighed deeply enough he could hear it on the other end of the phone. "Not just yet," she said, "and if we do… I might need you to come back and take care of that. I've run afoul of the LPD again."

"I take it you mean you've run afoul of a certain chief of detectives," he said.

"Maybe," she said, rubbing her eyes wearily, "but I don't want to talk about it."

"Great!" he said, though she could hear a hint of sympathy in his voice, "I don't want to hear about it."

"Okay," she said scribbling notes to herself, "tell Jim to keep working on it and get back to me if there's any more movement."

"Will do," he said as he hung up the phone.

* * *

The next morning John made a point to approach his office from the back door in the hopes of avoiding Bo. He knew it was immature and not likely to work, but he didn't know what else to do. He had the answers he'd gone looking for; he could tell Bo why Natalie left and where he could find her, but if she wasn't ready to tell her family, what right did he have to step in?

And regardless of what was right, he really didn't want to talk about it.

It took until 11:23 before Bo wandered into his office. "Hey John," he said, his hands thrust deep into his pockets, "how's it going?"

"It's going," he said with a raise of his eyebrows intended to convey that it was not going well.

"I don't want to sound pushy, but Jones's arrest is in all the papers now and I'm going to start getting questions from the rest of the family. I'm actually surprised neither Clint nor Vicki has called me yet."

"Yeah, I understand," he nodded, focusing on the papers on his desk instead of the face of his friend and boss.

"I heard you went to see Jones, did he give up anything?" Bo asked.

He shook his head. "Natalie was never with him that was just a ploy on her part. I suspect it was mostly for my benefit, to keep me from looking for her."

"But Balsom backed up the story," Bo pointed out, "he said she'd talked it over with him. Do you think he was lying or was she lying to him too?"

"I couldn't say," he said.

"You talked to him though, right?"

He nodded, wishing the conversation would just end before he exploded with the truth.

"He say anything different from what he's said in the past five years?"

"Nothing earth shattering," John said, running a hand through his hair, "but I'm pretty sure he knows more than he's telling."

"What makes you think that?" Bo asked with a frown. His fondness for Rex Balsom was no secret, but he wasn't naïve either; he knew that the younger man was capable of doing the wrong thing if he thought he had the right reasons.

"Well he said that the story about her and Jones was the only truth I deserved. Sounded a little suspicious."

"Agreed," he nodded. "I could try talking to him. Maybe I could get through to him—make clear the reasons I'm looking for her."

"Maybe," John said looking down at his desk.

"Did you find anything else?"

He hesitated. Up to now he could at least argue that he hadn't lied, but at this point it was either lie or give up her secret. He chose to lie. "No."

Bo continued staring at him a moment longer as though he didn't know whether to believe him or not. "Anything new on the break-ins at BE?"

"Not really," he said, "I'm working the angle that we're dealing with some sort of corporate espionage, but that was kind of a no brainer. Nothing beyond that."

"John," Bo said slowly, his lips pursed thoughtfully, "I hope I'm off base here, but I'm kind of getting the feeling that you're hiding something from me." John didn't respond, he held his stare unwavering, knowing that at this point anything he said would probably give himself away. "And what worries me," Bo continued, "is that historically, when I've had this feeling, I've been right. Did I make a mistake asking you for help on the Natalie situation?"

"No sir," he said. And there it was. The mistake he'd known he'd make. He never called the commissioner "sir" and doing so now only provided further evidence that he was violating their friendship. He could tell from the expression on Bo's face that he hadn't missed the slip either.

"I'll tell you what," he said, making his way slowly to the door, "as soon as you have something to tell me, why don't you give me a call?"

John nodded silently as Bo left his office. Rubbing his eyes wearily he picked up the case file he'd been generally neglecting since that night he found her in the BE offices. He'd promised her he'd keep working on the case—maybe something in the LPD's interviews would shed some light onto the identity of the spy.

* * *

Natalie took a deep breath as the guard led her through the door and asked herself, yet again, why she was there. He was a friend, she reasoned, he'd been there for her during one of the darkest times in her life, she owed it to him to be a friend now. What she couldn't quite figure out was whether she was there for him or for herself.

But he was a friend, and for the past five years she hadn't really had one of those.

His face broke into a grin when he saw her on the other side of the glass. "I tell you," he said "I didn't think anything could brighten up these drab walls, but I see I was wrong."

"Hi Vincent," she said, offering him a smile in return.

He shook his head in disbelief as he said, "Natalie Buchanan, you sure are a sight for sore eyes. I like the brown."

She toyed self-consciously with then ends of her hair. Sometimes she forgot about the color change till someone mentioned it. "Thanks."

"Though I got to tell you I miss the red."

"It was time for I change," she shrugged.

"So I hear," he said, smiling again.

"How are you?" she asked softly, ignoring the comment.

"Well," he said with a shrug, "I'm bored out of my mind and the food is lousy, but it could be worse."

"Is there anything I can do?" she asked, "Do you need a lawyer? I could-"

"No, no," he laughed, "I'm good there. Believe me I've got plenty of money stashed away."

"Okay," she said thinking, "well do you-?"

"There is one thing you could do for me," he said.

"What's that?" she asked, knowing better than to agree before she knew heard his request.

"You could tell me where you've been for the past five years and why everyone seems to think it's my fault."

"Oh," she said looking down at her hands, "sorry about that."

"Don't apologize," he said, "but you've got to warn a brother before you do something like that. You know I'm always available if you need to use my name to stick it to John McBain, but-"

"That's not what I was doing," she said.

"Sure you weren't," he laughed.

"I wasn't," she insisted, "I- well it's complicated, but I needed to go somewhere and I needed to make sure he didn't follow me."

"And it wouldn't have been simpler to just say, 'John, I have to go somewhere, don't follow me'?"

"Like I said, it's complicated."

He rolled his eyes. "It always is with you two."

"You know he doesn't listen to me."

"That's true," he said, "but to be fair, it does work both ways. And then, the other problem is, he can't listen to what you don't say."

Taken aback she said, "It's not like I'm known for keeping my mouth shut."

"Not really," he smiled, "but you do that girl thing where you don't say what you mean. I'm hardly president of his fan club, but you can't fault McBain for not being psychic."

Natalie bit her lip as she thought over his words. If she was honest, there had been times when she expected him to pick up on things she was thinking or feeling, but after all they'd been through, was that really too much to ask?

"Natalie," Vincent asked gently, "why are you here?"

"I wanted to see how you were doing," she said, "I was worried about you."

"I'm flattered," he said, "or I would be if I thought it was true. But the way I see it, you're here for one of two reasons. Either you came here because you wanted a straight answer and you knew I'd give you one, or you're here because you knew you could count on me to remind you that John McBain's a dick and you deserve better."

"I don't," she said sadly, "It's the other way around."

"What's going on right now with you two anyway?" he asked, "he told me that he's seen you, but he didn't seem to have the first clue where, how or why."

"I left him," she said closing her eyes, "I lied to him…"

"You want him back?" he supplied for her.

"No," she said firmly, "It's too late for that. It's just… the feelings are all still there. But I'm not the person I was back when we were together and I can't magically become her again. And I don't think the person I am now could be with him."

"So what is it that you want?" he pressed.

"I don't know," she sighed, "I need his help and I wish… I just wish I could make him understand why I did what I did. I won't even hope for him to forgive me, but… it kills me to think of him hating me so much."

To her surprise, at that Vincent threw back his head and laughed.

"Okay," she said folding her arms, "why is that funny?"

"Cause I talked to the guy," he said, "and I've never claimed to understand him, but one thing I'm sure of—with all the things he feels for you, hate is the least of it."

"But-"

He held up a hand to stop her protest. "You know, Nat, I was telling the truth when I said I was bored. So I'm not going to complain about the company if you two want to keep coming to visit me to talk about each other. But if you actually want to do anything about all this, I'm not the one you need to be talking to."

* * *

John went directly home after work that night. He wanted a drink desperately, but he didn't want to have to deal with people, so the six pack of beer in his mini-fridge would have to suffice. He popped open the first one and pulled out that note she'd left him all those years ago. Reading it was pointless now, he knew; the whole thing was a lie. But gazing at it now he searched for something… some clue he should have seen all those years ago that would have let him know the truth.

He was only half finished with the first beer when there was a knock at the door. Plunking it down angrily on the coffee table, he walked to the door and flung it open, surprised to see Jessica Buchanan standing in front of it. Her eyes were red and puffy and her jaw was quivering slightly, but she had a look of resolve in her eyes.

"I don't like you very much," she said folding her arms across her chest.

"I'd figured that out," he said.

"You hurt my sister, more than once. And I always blamed you for Natalie leaving the way she did," she explained.

"So you've said," he nodded.

"But Uncle Bo said you were looking for her, that you might have some idea where she is."

He nodded, unwilling to reveal that he knew exactly where she was, but not quite willing to lie either.

"If you have any idea… she needs to come back as soon as possible," she said, her voice cracking.

"Jessica, has something happened?" he asked.

She nodded and a tear ran down her cheek. "It's my mom."

To be continued…


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's note:** .

* * *

Natalie answered the door quickly, a look of confusion washing over her face as she looked at him. "What are you doing here?" she asked, "Did you find something?"

"It's not about the case," he said.

"Then what-?"

"You need to come back to Llanview with me," he said.

"John-" she started to protest, but he wouldn't let her.

"This isn't me asking," he said, "it's Jessica."

"Jessica?" she asked in surprise.

"She showed up at my place tonight begging me to find you," he explained, "your mom had another heart attack."

Natalie gasped and covered her mouth with one hand. "Is she…?"

"She's in the hospital," he said. He could see her visibly relax at the knowledge that at the very least her mother was alive. "But it's not good."

Pushing her hair out of her face with one hand, she said, "Thank you for coming. I… Oh God, okay, I have to go, I have to…"

Whatever anger he might still hold towards her wasn't important at the moment as he watched the seriousness of the situation sink in. She tapped her foot subconsciously as she tried to plan her next move and instinctively he jumped in to help.

"I just put Larisa to bed," she said out loud, though he wasn't sure she meant to.

"Can your nanny stay with her?"

"Yeah," she said picking up the phone, "I'm sure she-" She stopped herself and put it back down. "No," she said, backing away from it, "I need to take her with me. If my mom might… I want her to get the chance to see her grandchild."

"Okay," he nodded, "What do you need to take with you?"

"Let me just grab a couple of things for Larisa and then I'll get her out of bed," she said. He could tell she was struggling to hold in the tears as she tossed a few items into a bag and disappeared into what he assumed must be Larisa's bedroom.

Standing by the doorway John heard her saying gently, "Hey sweetheart. I'm sorry to get you out of bed so quick, but I have a big surprise for you." The girl murmured something in response that he couldn't make out, but Natalie continued talking, "You remember Mommy's friend John? We're going to go on a trip with him to go see your grandma. She's very sick and we're going to go cheer her up. Doesn't that sound like fun? Okay, come here sleepy girl."

She emerged a moment later, carrying the drowsy little girl, still clad in pajamas, in her arms. "Can you hand me my keys?" she asked him, motioning to the table by the front door where they sat.

"Natalie," he said, shaking his head, "you're in no condition to drive."

"I'll be fine," she said.

"Yes you will," he said picking up her bag for her, "because I'm driving."

Glaring defiantly at him she said, "Larisa needs a booster seat. You don't have one in your car and I don't have time to deal with moving it over."

"Fine," he said, "I'll drive your car."

"And just leave yours here?"

"I'll find a time to come back for it later," he said, "You want to keep arguing about this or you want to hit the road?"

She studied his face half a moment longer, then apparently deciding arguing would be a waste of time, moved towards the door and said, "You're a pain in the ass, you know that?"

"I've been told," he said, following her out.

They drove the first several miles in near total silence. Finally John made a motion towards the car's CD player and said, "I remember this CD."

"You should," she said wearily, "you made it for me."

"Yeah, 'cause you had such lousy music in your car," he said, "I needed something I could listen to."

"Like you ever let me drive," she said, smiling slightly.

"I can't believe you still have it," he said under his breath.

"Well," she said trying to keep her voice light, "it helps me calm down sometimes. And Larisa likes it."

"Kid's got taste," he said nodding without taking his eyes off the road.

She grew quiet again for a moment staring at the darkened highway in front of them. Finally she said, "John, how has my mom been? Up till now, I mean."

"All right, I think," he said, "I don't see a lot of her, but she always seemed to be doing okay when I did. Jessica's living in the carriage house and I'm sure she likes having her and Bree close."

"It's funny," she said, "I didn't know my mom for most of my life and I haven't seen her in five years, and yet… the thought that she could not be on this earth anymore, it's just…"

He reached across and placed a gentle hand on her thigh. "She'll pull through," he assured her. It was such a small gesture, and yet that was all it took to bring them back to being the John and Natalie of five years ago. Obsessively supportive of each other and so comfortable in each others' presence. Gone were the two essential strangers who had sat in their place a moment earlier. And they drove the rest of the way in a much easier silence.

* * *

When they reached the darkened hospital parking lot, Natalie twisted in her seat to look behind her. "She's out cold," she said, "I hate to wake her up."

"You want me to sit out here with her?" he offered.

"No," she said with a sigh climbing out of the car, "if she wakes up and I'm not here she'll be upset. Besides, I'd rather have her with me. Anyway, thanks for the ride, just give me a second to get her out and-"

Circling around behind her he placed a hand gently on her back and said, "I'll get her."

"That's not necessary," she said dismissively.

"I know," he said, "but let me help anyway."

She straightened up and said in a low voice, "This isn't me being stubborn, John. I don't know if she'll let you pick her up."

"Can we try?" he suggested, "I may not be able to break a man's jaw with my foot, but the last time I checked I was bigger and stronger, might stand a better chance of not waking her up."

Natalie closed her eyes in silent consent, but as he bent down to reach for the sleeping child she suddenly put a hand on his shoulder. "John, she doesn't like hospitals. She's spent a lot of time in them because of her hip surgeries and everything and… if she wakes up and realizes where she is, she might start kicking and screaming."

"It's all right," he said half smiling at her, "I'm used to that from her mother."

Natalie watched anxiously as John smoothly lifted her daughter out of the backseat. Larisa seemed to half awake at one point and Natalie waited for her to panic, realizing she was being held by a stranger. Instead, she wrapped her tiny arms around his neck and went right back to sleep with her head nestled into the crook of his neck. John holding her child was the kind of sight that Natalie had once dreamed of, but it hadn't all turned out the way she'd once hoped.

Shaking herself quickly and reminding herself there was no time for such self indulgence, she led them towards the hospital. They had only walked a few yards inside when the familiar smell woke Larisa up and she began whimpering and struggling in John's arms. "Shh," he said in her ear as he soothingly stroked her back, "it's okay."

"No!" she protested.

"Baby, I know you don't like these places," Natalie said taking her daughter's hand and falling into step beside them, "but we're not here for you this time. Remember I told you that your grandma is very sick? We're here to see her." Receiving a very distrustful look she continued, "No one's going to poke you or give you shots or anything, I promise." When the child still seemed upset she held out her arms and asked, "You want to come to Mommy?"

In response, to Natalie's surprise, Larisa grabbed fistfuls of John's shirt and refused to let go. Watching them, her mother couldn't help but remember how safe she had once felt in John's arms. Once again, however, she shook the thought out of her head quickly; she needed to focus on the matter at hand.

They made their way down the hospital hallway to where the Buchanan family was gathered. One by one they all seemed to catch sight of Natalie approaching, but no one said anything until she was in the waiting area. "How is she?" Natalie asked nervously.

"Nice of you to ask," her father said, a sharp edge to his voice, "she's spent the past five years worried sick about you, so it might have been a bit nicer if you could have bothered to come home sometime before now-"

"With all due respect, Mr. Buchanan-" John tried to interject but Natalie held up a hand to stop him.

"It's fine, John," she said, "he's right."

"But it doesn't matter," Jessica said crossing to her and embracing her tightly, "what matters is that you're here now. I know it will mean a lot to her."

"Is she…?"

"She's hanging in there," Jessica said, "she's going to get through this. You know Mom."

"Yeah," she said sniffing as she pulled away, "Can I see her?"

"Not right now," Kevin explained, "they're doing a procedure to try and drain the fluid which is collecting around her heart."

She nodded, studying her brother's face. "When did you get back?"

"This afternoon," he said.

Stunned that he had arrived from England so much faster than she'd made it from within the same state she asked, "When did this happen?"

"This morning," Clint said, "Lois found her on the floor in the kitchen."

"Then why-?" she wanted to ask why it had taken so long for anyone to tell her, but of course, none of them had any way to get a hold of her.

"I'm sorry we didn't get to you sooner," Jessica said, "I didn't think to call Uncle Bo until this afternoon and that's when I found out that John might be able to get in touch with you."

"It's not your fault," she murmured under her breath.

"It is good to see you though, Nat," Kevin said putting an arm around her, "I just wish it was under better circumstances."

"Yeah," she said, forcing a smile, "How's Zane?"

"He's great," he said, "He and Kelly are hopefully flying in tomorrow. Joey was on a mission trip in Africa, we still haven't got word to him."

"Um… Natalie," Jessica said noticing John and Larisa for the first time, "Speaking of children… who's this?"

"I'm sorry," she said walking over to them and reaching out for her daughter. Larisa, however, had tightened her grip on John even more when she heard raised voices and refused to release him. Knowing that forcing her away would only make things worse, Natalie settled for putting a hand on her arm. "Everyone, this is Larisa, my daughter." She could see the shock on everyone's faces but she was thankful no one reacted loudly. "Larisa, baby, this is your Aunt Jessica, your Uncle Kevin, and your Grandpa. You remember I told you about them?"

Larisa nodded solemnly.

"Hi there, pretty girl," Jessica said brightly, taking a step towards her, "I'm so glad to meet you."

Larisa didn't say anything, but she smiled timidly. "She's shy," Natalie offered as explanation.

"That's okay," Jessica said, her smile never wavering off the child, "this must be kind of crazy meeting all these people in the middle of the night."

"Kinda," she said in a voice just above a whisper.

"John, you can put her down," Natalie said, feeling guilty that he was still holding the girl who was anything but still in his arms.

"No!" Larisa protested petulantly.

Giving her a gentle, but firm look she said, "Baby, you get heavy after a while. You don't want to break John's arms, do you?"

"She's fine," John assured her. Natalie shook her head and started to say something else when Michael McBain emerged from one of the rooms nearby and the rest of the family turned to him expectantly.

Michael gave an odd look to John and Natalie, surprised to see either of them there, but he quickly turned to the rest of the Buchanans.

"Well," Clint said expectantly, "how is she?"

"We've drained the fluid that was surrounding the heart and putting pressure on it," he said, "that should help, but the fluid build up was just a symptom of a larger problem and we're waiting on test results that should give us a better idea what all's going on."

"Can we see her?" Natalie asked.

Trying to be professional and not let his animosity towards her show, Michael nodded. "Yes, but one at a time please. And don't tire her out, she needs rest."

"You should go first, Natalie," Kevin said, "I'm sure she'll be happy to see you."

Natalie glanced around for arguments from the rest of the family; Clint turned away, but didn't argue, Jessica smiled at her encouragingly. "Thank you," Natalie said, moving towards the room.

"Try not to upset her," Clint said pointedly.

Nodding at him she continued without saying anything. She had scarcely taken three steps towards the door, however, when Larisa cried out, "Mommy!"

"Mommy will be right back," she assured her, turning back to the child, "I'm just going in to see grandma."

Larisa released the grip she'd held on John and held out her arms towards her mother. Natalie took her reluctantly from John, but walked her directly over to the nearby couch and sat down. "You can't come with me right now, baby doll," she said, "grandma can only have one visitor at a time, but you can sit right here and…" Natalie looked around for something to distract her daughter with, silently cursing herself for not bringing in the bag she'd hastily packed with books and toys.

"You can talk to me," Jessica jumped in as she sat down beside them, "We have so much to talk about! Did you know that I have a little girl right about your age?"

The little girl didn't respond, staring carefully at this strange woman speaking to her. "You know that," Natalie said nudging her playfully, "What's your cousin's name?"

"Bree," she said solemnly.

"That's right!" Jessica laughed, "And I can tell you all about her, and you can tell me about you, and I bet I can even tell you some silly stories about your mommy."

"Oh no!" Natalie said forcing a laugh for the child's sake.

"So what do you say?" her sister asked, "Can you hang out with me for just a little bit while Mommy goes in to see Grandma?"

Reluctantly Larisa nodded and slid off her mother's lap. Standing up Natalie squeezed her tiny hand and said, "I'll be right back." Then she crossed the hall and disappeared into her mother's room.

With Natalie's daughter no longer in his arms, John stood awkwardly to the side, feeling like a bit of an interloper. He considered leaving, he could easily walk home from the hospital, but he hadn't missed the angry greeting Natalie had received from her father. Whatever was going on between them, he felt guilty abandoning her to that. As he stood there, Michael approached him and asked in a low voice, "Can I have a word with you, bro?"

John nodded and followed Michael around the corner. "What the hell's going on?" he asked when they were out of earshot from the Buchanans.

"What do you mean?" John asked blankly.

Michael shook his head in an exasperated gesture. "When last we talked about this subject you were trying to decide whether or not to arrest Natalie for breaking and entering at Buchanan enterprises. The next thing I know, you show up here at her side, carrying her kid-"

"Her mother's in the hospital," he interjected, "from what I hear it doesn't look good."

"I know that," Michael said, "I've been treating her since I came on. What I don't get is what that has to do with you."

"I was the only one who knew how to find her," he said with a shrug.

"And a phone call wouldn't have sufficed?"

"Why is this a big deal to you?" John asked.

"Because you're getting sucked back in by her and you don't even realize it," Michael said, "it's just like it always was—You start to move on with your life, then something happens to Natalie and you have this insane need to protect her, so you-"

"That's not what's going on here," he insisted shaking his head, "trust me, Mike, there's a lot you don't know about."

Michael shook his head again, he didn't have time to continue this argument, but he hated to see his brother getting sucked again. "Just be careful, John," he said, turning on his heel and walking down the hall.

Natalie walked slowly into her mother's room, taking a few deep breaths to steady herself. She'd known what to expect, but that didn't make it easier to see her mother so pale and still, surrounded by machines and monitors. Refusing to let her fear show, she walked closer and sat down beside her bed. "Hey mom," she forced out around the lump in her throat.

Viki's eyes opened halfway. "Natalie?"

"Yeah, it's me," she said, encouraged by this sign of life.

"I must be pretty bad if they got you back here," she said, her voice weak and drowsy.

"No," she assured her, "John found me a couple of weeks ago and when he heard you were sick he brought me back because he knew I could give you the best medicine ever."

"Seeing you again _is_ good medicine," she agreed.

"That's good to hear," she said with a tearful smile, "but I can top it. I brought something even better with me."

"What could be better than having my daughter back?" she asked.

"How about meeting your grandchild?" she suggested.

"Grandchild?" she echoed in surprise.

"My daughter," she explained, "Her name is Larisa and she's right outside in the waiting room. You can see her as soon as the doctor's say it's okay."

"Well that _is_ something worth getting better for," she said managing a smile, "Do you have pictures?"

"Do I have pictures?" she repeated with a laugh reaching into her purse and removing an envelope, "Of course, I have pictures!" She began holding up the photos, one by one so her mother could see.

"She's beautiful," Viki said, "And so big! How old is she?"

"Four," she said, "four and a half, I guess."

"You have any baby pictures?"

"No," she said glancing down at her lap, hoping what she had to say didn't dampen her mother's enthusiasm over her grandchild, "I adopted her when she was two."

"Ah," she said, clearly unphased, "she really is beautiful. I can't wait to meet her."

"Well then you just focus on getting better," Natalie said squeezing her mother's hand.

"I'll do my best," she said, "as long as you promise you'll let me get to know her when I do."

"Of course," she said wiping a tear from her eye, "I'm sorry I kept her from you as long as I did. But you need to rest now."

Letting her eyes close Viki murmured, "As long as you'll be here when I wake up."

To be continued…


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's note:** Not the most exciting chapter, but taking care of things that need to be taken care of before the plot starts moving again. Thanks for the feedback, it's always nice to know what people think.

* * *

The mood in the waiting room was tense for more reasons than concern over Viki's health. Natalie felt drained and ill at ease as she sat on the couch, Larisa sound asleep beside her with her head in her lap. She still hadn't spoken with her father who was making a point to avoid eye contact and she didn't know what she could begin to say to him anyway. Kevin was sitting with their mother and Jessica, distressed by the hostility between her father and sister, kept flitting back and forth between the two of them.

Adding to Natalie's uneasiness, John continued to hover around, looking every bit as awkward as she felt. She kept hoping he would just leave, but he showed no signs of it.

She was looking down at her sleeping daughter, stroking her hair, when she heard a voice call out, "Nattie?"

Glancing up she saw Rex walking quickly towards her his arms outstretched. "Rex!" she said as he leaned down to hug her tightly. She spoke louder than she meant to, rousing Larisa who half sat up.

"It's so good to see you," he said, still hugging her, rocking her back and forth.

"You too," she said, her eyes watering with pent up emotion.

"And this must be Larisa?" he asked smiling down at the blinking girl as he pulled back.

"It is," Natalie said, nudging Larisa, "You know who this is, baby? This is your Uncle Rex."

"I'm the cool one," Rex said proudly dropping down to her level, "It's nice to finally meet you."

Larisa nodded shyly, snuggling tighter into her mother's lap.

Squeezing her brother's hand, Natalie said, "Thank you for coming."

"Of course I came," he said, "As soon as I heard you were here, I figured you'd need all the support you could get. Besides, present circumstances aside, it's good to see you."

She blinked at him, "How did you know I was here?"

Rex looked back at John uneasily, "McBain called me. I'm sorry, I thought you knew. I-"

"It's fine," she said with a sideways glance towards John, surprised, but touched at this gesture, "I'm just glad you're here."

"How's your mom?" he asked sitting down beside her.

Natalie shrugged, willing herself not to cry, "She's hanging on. But… it's hard to say."

Standing across the waiting area and trying not to look too conspicuous, John watched Natalie fall instantly into easy conversation with her brother. He wasn't surprised; he'd called Balsom because of the bond he shared with his sister. But that didn't stop him from feeling a pang in his chest as he watched them. Rex had known about Larisa—clearly she had communicated with him over the years much more than she had with anyone else.

He still wasn't clear what he was feeling towards Natalie, there was so much they hadn't resolved. Part of him was still furious with her for the lies she'd told and for leaving all those years ago. And still, it hurt to be left out of her life so completely.

Jessica came and sat down in the chair across from Natalie. "Hey," she said, leaning forward and speaking softly, "I just talked to Michael and he says we won't have the test results till morning. I'm going to go home and try to get a couple hours' sleep. Why don't you come with me?"

She shook her head. Coming back to Llanview was rough enough, she didn't think she was quite ready to face Llanfair. Besides, she had promised her mother she would be there when she woke up. "I only live an hour away," she began.

"An hour?" Jessica repeated, "Natalie, God forbid something should happen, you really want to be that far away?"

"No," she said, "which is why I'm not leaving."

"At least let me take Larisa with me," she said, "she can sleep in our guest bed, meet Bree. It'll be a lot more fun for her than sitting around the hospital and one less thing for you to worry about."

"I don't think that's a good idea," Natalie said, "If she wakes up in a strange place and I'm not there… she might not take it well."

"Well if she gets upset we're fifteen minutes away," she said, "I can bring her right up here to you or you can come to us."

"Might not be a bad idea," Rex said, speaking up, "I doubt she's very happy being in a hospital either."

Natalie looked down at her daughter, now dozing off again, and thought it over; she didn't know how Larisa would handle being at Jessica's, but the tense environment of the ICU wasn't necessarily ideal either. "I don't know how to ask this delicately," she said to Jessica, "but are there any strange men at your house?"

Jessica smiled. "There aren't any men at all around my house. It's just me and Bree and her baby sitter from time to time."

"I'm just asking because Larisa isn't around men a lot and she gets skittish around them."

"You don't have to explain," she assured her, though there were a million questions in Jessica's eyes.

Natalie thought a moment longer then nodded. "Okay, but let me drive her over there and get her settled."

"All right," Jessica said standing up as Natalie gathered the sleeping child into her arms, "I'll meet you there."

"Can you stay here, just in case?" Natalie asked Rex, "Call me if anything at all changes?"

"Whatever you need," he nodded.

"You need a hand?" John asked stepping forward as Natalie fumbled with the weight of the sleeping child.

"No, I've got it," she said more sharply than she'd meant, "you don't need to stick around, you know?"

"I know," he said, not making any indication that he was thinking of leaving.

"I'll be right back," she announced to the room without looking at anyone in particular as she left.

* * *

Natalie was surprised at how easily Larisa went to sleep in the guest bed at the carriage house, but she supposed it was a testament to how exhausted the girl was. With a pang of guilt she realized the night had been stressful for more than just herself. Going back downstairs she found Jessica making herself a cup of tea.

"Thank you for letting her stay here," she said.

"Of course," Jessica said, "It's no problem at all." Impulsively she threw her arms around her sister and pulled her into a tight hug. "I'm so glad you're here. I was worried about you."

"I'm sorry," she said as they separated.

"Don't apologize," she said, "I'm sure you had your reasons." Natalie nodded mutely. When she didn't elaborate on her own Jessica gently prodded, "Natalie, if you don't want to talk about this right now, I completely understand, but Larisa… did something happen to her?"

"Yeah," she said softly nodding her head, "before I adopted her-"

"Adopted?" Jessica interjected in surprise.

"Yeah, I'm sorry," she said tucking her hair behind her ears, "I forgot you didn't know."

"I just assumed… Well when I saw John carrying her in like that… I mean the math works out and-"

"She's not his," she said firmly.

"You probably don't want to think about this right now," Jessica said hesitantly, "but you know how word gets around here. And I can guarantee you I'm not the only person who's going to jump to the wrong conclusion."

"John will correct them soon enough, I'm sure," she said, not really wanting to talk about John with her gossip loving sister, "but anyway, back to Larisa, this isn't for general consumption, but I feel like you'll understand better than anyone."

"You mean because of what happened to me?" she asked, figuring out what Natalie was getting at.

She nodded. "I don't know exactly what happened to her and I don't know how much she remembers. Maybe she was young enough they left her alone. But the people who had her were part of a network. Films, pictures, I don't know how many kids they hurt."

"God, that's terrible," she said shaking her head, "Has she seen a professional about this?"

"Regularly," Natalie said, "starting the day I brought her home."

"Wow," Jessica said sadly, "I guess that explains why you said she's skittish around men."

"She also doesn't see many of them," she admitted, "It's mostly just me and her nanny."

"What about Rex?" she asked, her voice betraying the jealousy she was trying to hide, "he knew about her."

"Rex helped me handle the adoption," Natalie explained, "that's the only reason he knew. He's never seen her before tonight."

"Are you sure that was a good idea?" she asked, "Letting Rex handle it? I mean, considering what he's done in the past-"

"I didn't do anything illegal," Natalie said quickly, "but her first two adoptions weren't on the up and up and I figured it actually might be good to have someone with some expertise on illegal adoptions involved."

"I guess so," she nodded, then taking a sip of her tea, she added pointedly, "I also noticed Larisa seemed pretty comfortable around John."

"I don't really know why," Natalie said with a shrug.

"Does she see a lot of him?" she pressed.

Natalie gave her sister an annoyed glare, "Twice including tonight. Nothing's going on between me and John."

Jessica laughed out loud. "Natalie, honey, since the day he arrived in Llanview there's always been _something_ going on between you and John."

"Well we're not involved," she said, her irritation with this line of conversation growing by the minute, "and we won't ever be again. He tracked me down because Uncle Bo asked him to and he came to get me because you asked him. That's it."

"If you say so," Jessica said in a tone which indicated she didn't buy it for a moment.

"I need to get back to the hospital," she groaned, picking up her purse, "I didn't mean to be gone this long."

"Call me if you hear anything," Jessica called after her, "I'll be there in a few hours."

* * *

When Natalie returned to the hospital waiting area she found her father and brother there with John, to her annoyance, still skulking in the corner. Rex had stayed as she requested but needed to leave after her arrival. "Any news?" she asked after saying goodbye to him.

Her father still avoided her eyes but Kevin said, "Not yet. The doctor's in there right now so he chased us all out. Did you get Larisa settled at Jess's?"

"Yeah," she said.

"That's good," he said, "You know if it's cramped at the carriage house there's plenty of room for you and Larisa at Asa's. Kelly, Zane and I are going to stay there so she'll still have another kid to play with."

The look her father gave Kevin when he made the suggestion made it clear that this was not something that had been agreed upon earlier and that the current patriarch of the family would not welcome her as easily as her brother. "Thanks, but we'll be fine," she said, "I'll stay here so we just need a place for Larisa to crash and she'll probably be more comfortable at Jessica's."

"Well just so you know," he said, "when you finally need a rest there are plenty of beds available to you."

"Oh don't worry, Kevin," Clint spoke up, "I think Natalie's well aware how many beds are open to her these days."

Natalie bit her lip and closed her eyes for a moment, hurt by her father's implication. Not for the first time, John, watching the Buchanan's from the sidelines wanted to jump to her defense, but she seemed determine to accept whatever was thrown at her. Fortunately, Viki's doctor emerged at that moment, refocusing everyone's attention on the matter at hand.

"How is she?" Clint asked.

"Resting much more comfortably since we were able to drain the fluid," he said, "but as I'm sure they already explained to you, that's just treating the symptom. I think we're looking at an infection, but we'll know more once we have the blood work back."

"Can I go back in and sit with her?" he asked.

The doctor nodded. "Just make sure to let her rest. She needs all the strength she can get."

As their father disappeared into their mother's room, Kevin turned to Natalie and gently said, "You know, he's not really mad at you."

"Oh, I'm pretty sure he is," she said with a bitter smile.

"Let me rephrase that," he said stepping forward in a conspiratorial manner, "he might be mad at you, but that's not what he's so upset about right now."

"Really?" she asked, masking the tears building in her eyes with a bitter laugh, "Had me pretty well fooled."

"There's a lot he's never resolved about Mom and his feelings about her," Kevin explained, "and he's upset because he was just reminded he could have missed his chance. Unfortunately, you're a convenient target to redirect all that at."

"I guess I should be happy I can help in some way," she said, forcing a smile.

A new voice from the corridor suddenly demanded, "Okay, he lives on another continent, how did he get the message and get here before I did?"

"Todd," Kevin said, the look of annoyance instantly forming on his face, "nice of you to show up."

Walking closer to them Todd looked Natalie up and down. "And you… almost didn't recognize you with the brunette thing going on. Didn't you drop off the face of the earth a couple years back? But they managed to get a hold of you faster than me, huh?"

"Jessica said she called you," Kevin sighed.

"Oh she did," he nodded, "she called my cell phone but it was turned off because I was on a plane and I don't know if you've heard, but they make you turn those off so the navigation doesn't get screwed up. Then she called my house and left a message with Jack, who you may or may not realize, is now a teenager, which apparently means he's incapable of relaying a message. Then she left a message with my now ex-secretary who thought writing it down on a pink memo pad was sufficient for a message of this magnitude."

"What else did you want Jessica to do?" Natalie asked, "Sounds like she tried you everywhere."

"She's a freaking Buchanan and a Lord," he said, "You don't think she could have gotten them to radio the message to the cockpit of the plane?"

"Well at least you're here now," Kevin said, though it was clear he was not in the slightest bit happy about it.

"Yes, I am, and I want to see my sister," he said, "Where is she?"

"Right over there," Kevin said motioning, "but she can only have one visitor at a time and Dad's in there right now."

"Yeah, 'cause that's who she needs to see," Todd snorted, "has anyone pointed out he's not even family any more."

"He means a lot to her," Natalie groaned, "just leave them alone."

"What do you know?" he shot back, "you're five years out of the loop."

"Manning, give it a rest," John said stepping forward from his spot against the wall.

Todd looked at him and raised an eyebrow. "What are you even doing here?" He paused and looked back and forth between him and Natalie. "Oh, of course," he said then leaning close to Natalie asked, "he hasn't been keeping you locked in a closet for the past five years, has he? Because that would actually explain a lot and-"

Natalie's cell phone rang at that moment. "Damn!" she said though she was thoroughly grateful for the interruption, "I probably shouldn't have this in ICU, should I?"

"I think you're fine as long as you don't go near her room," Kevin said with an indulgent laugh.

"Right," she nodded, bringing the phone to her ear, "I'll be right back." Walking down the hospital corridors, away from sensitive equipment, and out of earshot, she said brusquely, "Hey, what's up?... No, don't worry about it, I was already awake. What's going on? … Shit. How did that happen? … You told me you had a handle on this, you said… right, but now this guy's funneling corporate secrets to an anonymous buyer and we're no closer to finding out who he is. Do you realize… Yes, okay, I know, I just… Yeah, I thought we had him this time too. … Actually, I'm already in Llanview. I've sort of been outed already, I mean they don't know all the details, but… maybe you two are right, we should just go to the police, see if they can come up with something we missed. … No, not yet. Stay where you are for now, I'll call you if I need you to come in. … Yeah, let me know the minute anything happens. … Okay, talk to you soon."

Natalie flipped the phone closed and pressed her palms to either side of her forehead, fighting the urge to scream with frustration. For the past five years her life had been far from a fantasy, but if she had any consolation it was that it was under her control. Somehow it was all slipping out of her hands now. In the part of her brain that was ruled by logic she knew that it was pure coincidence that all this had started the moment John McBain walked back into her life, but the rest of her couldn't help blaming him.

She glanced at her watch; it was almost 7:00am. Her nanny usually came over to the apartment for morning coffee between 7:30 and 8:00 and if she found them missing she would start to worry. Not ready to rejoin her family anyway, she reopened the phone and made another call. "Hey Carmen, it's me, I didn't wake you up, did I? ... Yeah, I just wanted to give you a heads up that Larisa and I went out of town unexpectedly, my mom's sick. … Well, it's serious, but she's hanging on. … Thanks. … Yeah, Llanview. It's just over an hour away. Not too far, but I just dropped Larisa off at my sister's to get some sleep. … I don't know, she seemed okay with it, but we'll see when she wakes up. … No, just take today off and we'll see how it goes. I might wind up getting a hotel room here and then if you didn't mind. … Well I know Larisa would be more comfortable with someone she knows, but I hate for her to be far away. Mom hasn't gotten to see her yet and… Well if you didn't mind coming out here… Yeah, I'll call you. Thanks so much sweetie."

As she flipped her phone closed, grateful for at least one conversation that had gone well, she turned and was surprised to come face to face with her father. "Was that Jones?" he asked, "Or have you found some other loser to hook up with?"

"It was actually my nanny," she said tersely.

"Does it ever strike you as sad that your daughter knows her nanny better than her own grandmother?" he asked. Before she could respond he added, "Your Uncle Todd is in with her now, but you can see her when he gets out."

"Thanks," she nodded. As her father stalked away, she closed her eyes and took a couple of deep breaths, trying to compose herself. She tried to remind herself about what Kevin had said—that he was projecting his anger, but it didn't make his words hurt any less. Maybe because she knew there was a lot of truth to them. When she opened her eyes, John was standing in front of her with a cup of coffee in his outstretched hand.

"Figured you could use this," he said as she took it from him gratefully.

She took a sip and managed half a smile, "Cream no sugar."

"Didn't know if you still took it that way," he said, "I guess it's nice to know there are _some_ things about you that haven't changed."

Taking another gulp from the steaming cup she said, "You were never good at subtlty, John, why don't you just tell me what you're hinting at."

"You've just changed a lot, that's all," he said.

"A lot's happened," she said, looking away.

"It's just that the Natalie I used to know would have never just sat there and let her father yell at her like that when he doesn't know half the story."

"Well, the Natalie you knew was immature and desperate for people to love her," she snorted.

"She was also strong and feisty and-"

"What should I do, John?" she demanded, "Make an even bigger scene just to prove I'm right?"

"You could try telling the truth," he suggested, "Why don't you just tell him why you left? Don't you think he'll understand? That whole missing child thing's bound to ring some bells."

Natalie took a slow sip of her coffee as a distant look came into her eyes. "When I first came to town and my family found out who I was, do you know how long it took my dad to come out and meet me?" she asked. His silence let her know that he had no idea. "Until I called and told him Jessica needed him," she said, answering her own question, "he didn't have any interest in reconnecting with his long lost daughter until it happened to fit into his schedule around everyone else. So no, I don't think my father will understand." She put a hand on the wall to steady herself as she calmed down. John rubbed her shoulder gently as she took a breath. "Sorry," she said, "I don't think I realized how bitter about that I still am."

"It's okay," he said, "If you need to vent I'm willing to listen."

She shrugged off his touch and shook her head. "Like you said," she said, "I've changed. I'm not that damsel in distress just waiting for you to come and rescue me from a pit. I can do this just fine without you."

He looked hurt for a moment then muttered a quick, "Fine."

_Now who's misdirecting anger?_ She asked herself as he shuffled away. "Wait!" she called after him. He paused and turned around. "There is something I need your help with. Does Uncle Bo still get into the office at 9:00?"

"Like clockwork," he nodded.

"Because I've been thinking," she said, "since I'm here and everyone knows it now, maybe we should let him in on everything that's been going on at BE."

To be continued…


	9. Chapter 9

Natalie looked at her watch, only somewhat surprised to discover that only five minutes had gone by since the last time she'd done so. John had offered to call Bo and have him meet them immediately, but she wanted the extra time to mentally prepare herself. She'd gone in and sat with her sleeping mother for a while, but now fidgeted in the waiting area watching Kevin and Todd bicker, apparently over the quality of the hospital coffee. She rubbed her eyes wearily; the sleepless night was beginning to catch up with her.

When John came to sit beside her, she mumbled under her breath, "Just so we're straight before we go to Bo, you didn't know about my involvement in the BE case until you tracked me down."

"I'm not going to lie for you," he said simply.

"This isn't for me," she hissed, "and there's absolutely no reason Bo needs to know you waited to tell him. It doesn't change the facts of the case."

"How about you let me worry about myself," he suggested in a harsh whisper.

"I'm just trying to help," she said.

"And in the past how well has that strategy worked?"

Natalie didn't answer but rolled her eyes and crossed her arms defiantly. A moment later she heard the click of heels on the linoleum and a vaguely familiar feminine voice saying, "Kevin? I came as soon as I heard. How is she?"

It wasn't until the woman cleared her throat with a noise that sounded like "Hmmm" that Natalie was able to place the voice. Glancing up she could tell Marty, now squaring off with Todd, was unaware of her presence.

"Viki's going to be just fine," Todd was saying, sounding as though he were furious she'd suggested any other possibility, "but in the mean time, she can only see family and that's not you, so…"

"Leave her alone, Todd," Kevin said with a groan.

Turning away from Todd and towards Kevin, Marty asked, "What are the doctor's saying? Did they-?" She stopped short. When she turned she brought John and Natalie, sitting on the couch, their heads still inclined towards each other, into sight. Natalie forced a smile of greeting; Marty Saybrooke was hardly one of the people of Llanview she would have liked to see again, but she told herself not to make a scene here and now.

"Natalie…" she stammered, clearly unsettled by what she was seeing, "I didn't realize you were back."

"Didn't realize you were still here," she shot back. Her response might have been a little immature and uncalled for, but she didn't really care that much. She could blame it on stress and sleep deprivation if anyone called her on it.

But Marty didn't respond; it was Todd who spoke up. "Hey, you know what I just realized? McBain's got two exes here—that must be fun for you."

"Todd, could we please stay focused on Mom?" Natalie asked wearily.

Todd was deprived of the opportunity to make a snarky reply because at that moment Jessica arrived with Bree and Larisa. "Todd," she said rolling her eyes as they joined the rest of the crowd, "please tell me you aren't causing a scene here and now."

Before Todd or anyone else could respond, Larisa broke away from Bree and ran to her mother, her gait uneven because of her limp, exclaiming, "Mommy!"

"Hey baby!" Natalie said wrapping her arms around her tightly. Peering over the little girl's shoulder at her sister she said in a low voice, "I thought you were going to call me."

"If there was a problem," Jessica amended, "there wasn't. But when I asked the girls if they wanted to come here with me or stay with the baby sitter, Larisa wanted to come see you."

"So that's your kid?" Todd asked.

"Yes," Natalie said with a frustrated sigh.

"Hey look everybody!" he said barely able to contain his excitement and giving John a significant look, "Nat's got a kid. And judging by the age, can I be the first to say, 'Who's your daddy?'"

Marty shifted uncomfortably, glancing at John and Natalie before looking away. Natalie waited for John to correct everyone's mistaken impressions, but he didn't. After a long moment of awkward silence, Marty cleared her throat again. "Well I should get to my office. Please keep me posted on her condition," she said with an eye towards Kevin as she turned to leave.

"Of course," Kevin mumbled as she clicked down the hallway, looking over at Todd he snapped, "Do you have to be an ass all the time?"

Not eager to listen into another argument between her brother and uncle, Natalie smoothed Larisa's hair back from her face and asked, "Did you have fun at your Aunt Jessica's?"

Larisa nodded with a slight smile.

"I have something I have to go do in a little bit," she said, looking up at Jessica she asked, "Can you watch her for me again?"

"You're going to leave?" Jessica asked in surprise, "The doctor's should have the test results soon—we need you here."

"I know," she said closing her eyes, "and I'll be back as soon as I can, but this is really important."

"I don't guess there's any hope of you telling us what it is?"

Natalie shook her head sadly and added, "But you know I wouldn't leave right now if I didn't have to."

"Hurry back," Jessica said, "But sure, Larisa can hang out with us in the meantime."

"Okay, baby?" she said looking down at her daughter, "You stay here with Jessica and Bree and I'll be back soon?"

"No!" Larisa said wrapping her arms tightly around her mother's waist.

"Sweetie, I'll just be for a few minutes," she said gently prying at her fingers. Larisa was not appeased at all by this and tightened her grip as her eyes began to fill with tears.

"Come on, Larisa," Jessica said leaning down to speak with her, "don't you want to stay here with us. You and Bree can-"

"No!" she reiterated more desperately.

Natalie looked up at the ceiling trying to mask the tears of exhaustion and frustration that were building up in her eyes and mumbled to no one in particular, "It's because we're in a hospital. She thinks…"

"Why don't you bring her with us?" John suggested quietly.

Turning to him and shaking her head she started to argue, "John-"

"I'm sure Bo would like to see her," he said, "and I don't think she'll be in the way."

Natalie didn't miss the expressions on everyone's faces when they heard Bo's name, but she didn't acknowledge their unasked questions. "Fine," she said. Turning back to Larisa she said, "All right, baby, you can come with me, but you have to be quiet and behave."

Larisa nodded and relaxed her grip as her mother and John stood to leave. "Call me if the doctors say anything," Natalie said to Jessica before they left.

Jessica nodded. "Hurry back."

* * *

They walked into the station, Larisa clinging tightly to Natalie's hand. John, clearly not accustomed to walking with a child had to stop every so often to let them catch up. Some of the guys who had worked for the LPD when Natalie had been there gave them strange looks, but no one said anything. When they arrived at Bo's office the door was open.

Natalie hung back while John poked his head in. "Hey boss, you got a second?"

"Sure," he said, "what's-?" He stopped short when he caught sight of his niece and made his way to her quickly. "Natalie!" he said, his face breaking into a grin, "I talked to Jess last night and she said you were in town."

"It's good to see you," she said allowing him to pull her into a tight hug. Catching sight of Larisa he dropped down to her level and asked, "And who is this?"

"This is Larisa," she said, "my daughter."

"Hi Larisa," he said extending a hand which she took timidly, "I'm your great Uncle Bo. Emphasis on the 'great'."

Natalie smiled indulgently at the two of them for a moment before sobering and saying solemnly to her uncle, "We need to talk to you."

Catching the seriousness of her tone, Bo stood up straight and motioned them into his office without question. John shut the door behind them as Natalie settled Larisa into a chair in the corner, setting her up with a coloring book and putting headphones on her ears so that she wouldn't overhear their conversation.

"Is this about Vincent Jones?" Bo asked once John and Natalie were both seated at his desk.

"Not exactly," John said.

"It's about the break-ins at BE," Natalie explained.

Bo furrowed his brow, clearly surprised by this response. "I take it either John or your father filled you in on the investigation so far."

"Actually that wasn't necessary," she said taking a deep breath and steeling herself for his response. "I've been the one breaking in."

Bo shifted in his chair, clearly startled and upset by her answer. "I assume you both have explanations for me," he said looking back and forth between John and Natalie.

"John didn't know it was me," Natalie said quickly.

"Until the last break-in," John added giving her a significant look. He wasn't going to let her lie to protect him again.

Bo looked at John sternly. "I hope you have a damn good reason for not telling me this before hand?"

"I convinced him it was better for the investigation over all if he didn't," Natalie interjected.

"The investigation is apparently over. The investigation was to find who was behind the break-ins," he reminded her, "You just admitted that was you. Speaking of which, I'm certainly interested to hear your explanation."

"Of course," she nodded.

"You remember when I said I thought this was a case of corporate espionage?" John asked; Bo nodded. "Well I was right," he continued, "Except the person breaking in wasn't our spy."

"I don't follow," he said.

"For the past two years, I've been tracking down the person who leaked info about Buchanan Enterprises to Spencer Truman," Natalie explained.

"I thought it was determined he stole documents from Kelly Cramer?"

"He did," she said, "but she didn't have access to some of the information he seems to have had. There had to be someone else on the inside."

"And you think whoever it was is still with BE?"

"I'm certain," she said, "and he's been trying to find a new buyer. I've figured out from IP addresses that he's based out of the Llanview office, but I don't know who it is. When I broke in I was looking for something that would tell me who it was before they got a chance to leak anything."

"Why didn't you just come to me?" Bo asked, "Or your father?"

She looked down at her lap. "I can't- There are reasons," she said, "but they're complicated and I'd rather not talk about them. They really aren't important at the moment."

"Look Natalie," he said holding up his hands. He was about to say something more, but trailed off as all three of them were distracted by the commotion outside of the office.

"Sir!" a woman's voice said, "You can't go in there! The commissioner's in a meeting!"

"Oh don't worry," a man's voice said, "the commissioner always has time for me. I _am_ family after all."

John blinked at the sound of that voice. No. It couldn't be… He saw Natalie grimace and let her head drop into her hand as David Vickers burst through the door.

"Hello everyone," he said brightly, "looks like I got here just in time."

"Vickers?" John said, "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Uncle David!" Larisa squealed before David could answer. Putting her coloring book to the side, she jumped up and made her way to him, trying to disentangle herself from her headphones as she did.

"Uncle David?" Bo mouthed towards Natalie in shock.

David turned his attention to Larisa, wrapping one arm around her back as she hugged his legs. "Bon jour, mon petit frommage!" he said, "How are you? I see your thoughtless mother has dressed you in polyester again, despite my pleas on behalf of your future and the family's reputation."

"We're traveling, David," Natalie said with a sigh, "it's comfortable and it doesn't wrinkle."

"Excuses, excuses," he said wagging a finger at her.

"Vickers," Bo said irritably, "I repeat, what the hell are you doing here?"

David made a clicking noise with his tongue. "Now commissioner, watch your language. We have children present," he said placing his hands over John's ears rather than Larisa's. Larisa giggled.

"Get your hands off me," John said in a warning tone swatting his hands away.

"David!" Natalie snapped.

Whether it was the warning tone in her voice or he was finished toying with them, David sobered slightly. "For your information I am here because my favorite niece called me and I wanted to see exactly how much trouble she had managed to get herself into this time. Also, I heard that Viki was ill and I've always considered her a close personal friend, so-"

"Look David," Natalie said standing up suddenly, "Do you mind staying here with Larisa for a couple minutes? We need to show Bo something in John's office." She shot a quick glance to John and Bo to make sure this was all right with them and they nodded their consent.

"Why do I feel like I'm being relegated to he kid's table?" he asked.

"Because you are," she said, patting him on the head as they filed past him.

As John led them into his office, Natalie readied herself for another barrage of questions. "How is Vickers mixed up in all of this?" John demanded before the office door had even shut.

"And why, out of everyone in the family you could have let know about your child, he was the one you chose," Bo said. His tone was sarcastic but she could see hints of genuine hurt on his face.

"It's not like I deliberately chose to tell David about her and no one else," she said, "I wasn't keeping her from the rest of you. There were things I needed to do, reasons I couldn't come home yet. David and I have been working on something together and because of that he's seen Larisa. And they get along surprisingly well. Similar maturity levels I guess."

"Vickers is working with you?" John asked skeptically, putting his hands on his hips.

She nodded.

"What in God's name could the two of you be working on together?" Bo asked.

Natalie hesitated. John could tell she didn't want to tell him and yet she couldn't think of a way around it. "We've been cleaning up some of Spencer Truman's mess," she said, "wherever we can."

"Spencer Truman is dead," Bo said as if she needed to be reminded of that.

"But there are disasters he caused, people he hurt, that still haven't been put right," she said.

"And so out of the goodness of your heart, you and David Vickers have been trying to make amends?" Bo asked, clearly not buying it.

"We both had our ulterior motives," she admitted, "but that's what we've been doing."

Bo shook his head, trying to take all of this in. "And eventually this led you back to BE?" She nodded. "You realize that by handling things the way you did, you've wasted taxpayers' money, not to mention man power on an unnecessary investigation?"

"And I'm sorry," she said, "but I was hoping that maybe having all that police attention around the BE offices would rattle the guy. Either make him slip up and reveal himself or make him stop what he was doing, temporarily if nothing else."

Turning to John, he said, "So you've known since… wait a minute, when you got knocked out that night at BE was that even real or-?"

"Oh no, believe me," he said, "That was real."

"Where'd you learn to do that?" he asked Natalie, a hint of pride evident in his voice.

"Doing what I've been doing for the past five years I had to learn to take care of myself," she said.

"But since then," he said to John, "you've what? Been faking the investigation?"

"Redirected it," he said, "Natalie shared the information she has on the spy. I've been looking through the info we've gathered, interviews with the employees about the break ins to see if there's anything to help us."

"And you didn't think it was important to let me and the rest of the force know?"

"I was concerned that the more people who knew what we were doing the greater the chance someone would say something to the wrong person and our guy would find out what we were doing," he explained, "because I was in charge of the investigation it was easy enough to make sure everyone else was doing what they needed to be doing without explaining to them that the directive had changed."

Bo sighed. "This whole thing is a mess on so many levels it's ridiculous. You don't run this department, John. You can't make decisions like that without coming to me first."

"I apologize," John said, though both he and Bo knew this wasn't the first time he'd done something like this and it probably wouldn't be the last.

"And as for you," he said directing his gaze towards Natalie, "I don't know what's going on, what you've been doing the past five years or why you didn't feel you could come to your own family-"

"It wasn't that I didn't trust you-" she started to say, but he cut her off with a motion of his hand.

"But it is really good to see you kid," he finished with a slight smile.

"It's good to see you too," she said, her eyes misting over slightly.

"And I don't know what choice I have at this point," he said, "so I'm going to let you two continue the investigation as you see fit. But I'm going to have to let Clint know that-"

"No!" Natalie said sharply.

"Natalie," he said, "I can't let him go on thinking these are just break-ins when he has someone on the inside who's selling information about the company."

"Fine," she said, "you can tell him what you want about the investigation. Just don't let him know I'm involved."

Giving her a sympathetic look he said, "I heard from Jess that there was some tension between you two. I think if he knew what you were up to that could go a long way towards smoothing things over."

She shook her head. "I don't want to do it like that," she said, "please, Uncle Bo."

"Fine," he said reluctantly, "for now I'll keep your name out of it."

"Thank you," she said.

He continued, "And you can show your gratitude by handing over any information you've managed to gather."

"Already done," she said, "John has copies of all my files."

Pursing his lips and nodding slightly, Bo said, "Okay then. Let's get to work."

"Actually, I really need to get back to the hospital," she said apologetically, "I need to find out if the doctors have said anything."

"Understood," he said, "let me know what you find out there too. We'll be here working if you get a chance to stop by later."

"Thank you Uncle Bo," she said giving him a quick hug as she went back to his office to get Larisa. Larisa was coloring with David who seemed very determined about getting the proper color design for his little mermaid picture. "Come on, baby," she said, "We're going to go to the hospital to check on grandma."

"Oh good," David said brandishing a crayon for embellishment, "I can't wait to see Viki."

"David, she's really sick," Natalie countered as he and Larisa began putting the crayons away, "They won't let you see her right now and you'll just be waiting around with my dad and Kevin and Jessica."

"Are you saying I would be unwelcomed?" he asked placing a hand on his chest.

"Largely, yes," she said. That's when Bo standing behind her cleared his throat significantly. Thinking about it for a moment, Natalie realized that if she didn't take David with her, that meant he would stay at the police station. While she still believed he had an important role to play in the investigation, sorting through evidence with Bo and John wasn't it. He'd only get on their nerves and likely get in their way which wouldn't help the investigation at all.

"But I'm sure it would mean a lot to my mother to know you came," she said trying to hide her groan.

To be continued…


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's note: **This chapter's not exciting and I apologize for the presence of a certain person who shall remain nameless, but bear with me, there's a reason for it. Since it took me forever to finish this story, and even longer to post it here, said character was being played by a different actress when I was writing this. It doesn't really matter, but just in case you wanted to know what my mental image was.

* * *

Sometime around seven o' clock that night, John found the words in the files he was trying to read had stopped making sense; the sleepless night was starting to catch up with him. Not so long ago he would have chugged some more coffee and forced himself to keep going, but whether it was age catching up with him or just a hint of maturity, he decided to head home for a few hours' sleep.

Once in his room, however, he found Natalie once again invading his thoughts, making it impossible to sleep. He debated going over to the hospital to check on her, but decided not to. He didn't belong there and he was, after all, still angry with her for lying to him all those years. Finally, without bothering to throw on real clothes over his wife beater and sweats, he grabbed the one beer he had left in the refrigerator and headed up to the roof.

As soon as he got up there he knew it wouldn't work; Natalie was just as present on the roof as she was in his room. More maybe. Ah well. Maybe the beer, at least, would help his brain slow down.

At least the lying was over, he told himself. He didn't have to dodge Bo anymore; they could work on finding the BE spy in the open, wrap it up, and then he could be done with Natalie again.

Yeah right.

As if he could ever be done with her completely.

From the echoing space of the stairwell he heard running footsteps suddenly and the door burst open. He wasn't really surprised to see Natalie, but strangely enough she looked surprised to see him. "I'm sorry," she stammered, "I didn't know you'd be up here. I'll go."

"You don't have to," he said in a tone he knew was less than friendly.

"I… I was just looking for someplace alone to think," she said.

"Did something happen?" he asked, forcing himself to soften a bit.

"Nothing new," she said with a sigh, closing the door behind her and taking a few cautious steps towards him, "they banished me from the hospital until I got some sleep, so I went back to the Carriage House and laid down for a little while, but I couldn't sleep. Can't get my brain to turn off."

"I know the feeling," he said. Extending his beer towards her he added, "I only had one left, but you're welcome to a swallow or two if you think it might help."

She took it gratefully and gulped deeply several times. "Hey!" he protested, "Take it easy. Like I said, it's my last one."

"I'll buy you a six pack," she said dryly handing it back to him.

They stood there a few feet apart in silence for a few moments before he finally asked, "So how's your mom?"

"About the same," she said, "they say it's a virus of some kind. You know her immune system's shot because of her anti-rejection meds from transplant and there's really nothing they can do but treat her symptoms and hope she pulls through. And now they won't let Jess in to see her because she's a transplant recipient too."

"I bet Jessica's thrilled about that," he said.

She nodded. "But they did let me take Larisa in to see her."

"Sounds like she's getting stronger then," he said, "if they let her have the both of you in there."

"Not really," she said grimly, "I think it was more that they figured if they waited till she was strong enough for multiple visitors she might never get to meet her grandchild."

He fumbled for some sort of reassurance to offer her. "I'm sure it cheered her up though," he said, "getting to see Larisa."

"Yeah," she said, "and Larisa didn't act scared of her the way I was afraid she would. Mom's hooked up to so many machines and everything, I thought it might upset her."

"Well I guess it's good," he said, still feeling somewhat lost for words, "that they got to see each other."

"I guess," she echoed thoughtfully, sitting down on the ledge which outlined the roof, "I just can't help thinking…"

"What?" he asked when she failed to finish her sentence.

"She has another grandchild too," she said, her voice breaking slightly, "who she might never get to meet."

"You'll find Rhiannon," he said, sitting down beside her.

"I try to tell myself that," she said, "but sometimes I have a hard time believing it. And even if I do find her, what if it's not in time? For my mom or for her?"

"You need to stop thinking like that," he told her.

"You're right," she said quickly, rising suddenly to her feet and wiping the tears from the corners of her eyes, "I have to believe I'm going to find her because otherwise this has all been for nothing, and I can't handle that." He nodded mutely, knowing she was talking about the way she'd walked away from their relationship. Even now that he knew her reasons it still made him angry and he couldn't bring himself to reassure her on this subject.

She eyed him curiously for a moment, "You know it's still freaky how you do this."

"Do what?" he asked, no knowing what she was talking about.

"Turn your emotions on and off," she said, "do you even remember that a couple days ago you were screaming mad at me."

"I remember," he said evenly, "and you want to know the truth, I'm still mad, but your mom's sick and you need to concentrate on that."

"Same old John," she said, "always there for you in a crisis, it's the times between that were hard."

Same old Natalie; no one else had ever kept his head spinning the way she could. A moment ago it had almost seemed like old times, back when they were close and could share anything; now she was back to being the smart mouthed cat burglar he'd caught breaking into BE. "Hard to say really," he snapped back, "You were the one who walked away when the last crisis hit."

"I remember," she said, "So if tomorrow my mom wakes up and she's suddenly been cured, you'll be back to not speaking to me?"

"We're also working on a case together," he said, "I won't let my personal feelings get in the way of that."

"Of course not," she said with a bitter laugh. "Well, I'll tell you what? I don't want to put you in that position any longer than I have to, so let's get this case wrapped as soon as possible."

"I think that would be best for everyone involved," he agreed.

"Fine," she said, "I'll call our computer guy, ask him to come up here. He can tell you more about all the communications we've intercepted."

"That would be helpful," he nodded curtly.

"Well if you'll excuse me then," she said, making her way to the stairwell, "If I can't sleep, I might as well use this time to get some work done."

Once in the safety of the stairwell Natalie paused and took a deep breath to help hold in the tears that were rapidly building in her eyes. She hated herself for the way she'd just spoken to him, but she didn't know what else to do. She couldn't let herself lean on him the way she once had and she didn't trust herself to stay strong around him. So she'd push him away. And if that didn't work, the kettle of worms she was about to open by inviting Jim to Llanview would likely take care of the rest.

* * *

The next day when John arrived at the station he was greeted by an irritatingly chipper David Vickers. "Top of the morning to you, detective!" he said falling into step behind John as soon as he entered the squad room, "Where are we going to start today?"

"What are you doing here, Vickers?" John grumbled, flipping through his phone messages.

"I thought my niece explained that yesterday," David said following him into his office, "I'm here to contribute valuable insights into the investigation."

Without acknowledging his response or even looking him in the eye, John asked, "Where is Natalie?"

"She went by the hospital to see her mother," he said, "I wanted to go in and see my dear friend Viki, but she's only allowed to see family and it seems being the illegitimate half-brother of her fourth, fifth, and seventh husbands doesn't qualify me as family."

"That's a shame," John said distractedly flipping through some papers on his desk, "but why are you _here_?"

"Oh don't be like that!" David scolded extending a large paper cup with a lid on it towards him, "I brought you a latte so you could have a break from department issue and that instant crap I assume you're still drinking at home."

John accepted the cup with only slight reluctance; he wasn't ordinarily a fan of those high brow coffee creations, but coffee was coffee and he was still running on only a few hours' sleep. "How do you know what kind of coffee I drink at home?"

"My niece tells me things," he said, "now where were we?"

"You were going to tell me what you thought you were going to accomplish coming here," he said.

"Well," David said with a dramatic sigh, "I just want to help in any way I can. They won't let me see Viki. I offered to take Larisa on a little shopping excursion, but Natalie seems to think I'm gong to teach her to be too materialistic. I told her, Natalie, one can never be too materialistic, but-"

"Vickers!" John interrupted, raising his voice.

Sobering finally, David said, "I've been working this case longer than you. I know the ins and outs from our side like the back of my perfectly manicured hand. And believe it or not, I really do want to help. It's my final chance to have the last laugh where Spencer's concerned."

"All right then," John said, genuinely grateful for his candor, "let's go over the materials Natalie gave me and you can tell me what you know."

* * *

Natalie walked into her mother's room, knocking softly on the open door as she did. "Hey there, baby," Viki said, forcing a weak smile.

"Hi!" she said with forced brightness, "how are you feeling?"

"I'm all right," she said, though Natalie was fairly certain she wasn't being completely honest, "I'll be doing even better if you tell me that my granddaughter's out in the hallway waiting for me."

"Sorry," she said shaking her head, "her nanny came up from River Valley to stay with her and I didn't want to wear you out. Maybe I'll bring her by later if the doctors say it's okay."

"You're staying at the Carriage House?" Viki asked. Natalie nodded. "It must be a bit cramped with you and Larisa and Jess and Bree and the nanny."

"It's not that bad," Natalie assured her.

"Because you're welcome to stay at Llanfair you know," she said, "there's that suite on the third floor in the north wing that has three adjoining rooms which would be perfect for you."

"We're fine where we are," Natalie said with an indulgent smile, "Larisa doesn't do well with stairs and there's a lot of them at Llanfair. And it's just for a short time anyway."

Viki looked surprised and hurt all of a sudden. "So you're planning on leaving?"

"Not until you're completely recovered," she said, "don't worry."

"Well of course I'm worried," she said, "the last time you left town I heard hardly a word from you for five years."

"I promise I'll stay in touch from now on," she said trying to remain patient.

"No," Viki said with perhaps more energy than she'd had since her hospitalization, "I'm afraid that's not acceptable."

"Mom," Natalie said, shaking her head, "I can't just pick up and move back to Llanview."

"Why not?" her mother asked, unphased. "Is it work?"

"No," she sighed, "not exactly."

"Well then," she said, "If you'd rather not live at Llanfair I can connect you to an excellent realtor."

"Why are you so determined that I have to move back?" she asked, "Kevin and Joe both live in England."

"And they both call me several times each week," she said pointedly.

"So I'll call more often," she insisted.

"Natalie," Viki said, clicking her tongue, "you don't give me much incentive to get better if I know the moment I'm healthy again you'll be leaving town for God knows how long."

It took Natalie a moment to figure out what her normally passive mother was doing. "You're blackmailing me!" she said in shock.

"That makes it sound so unpleasant," she said, smiling sweetly at her, "but seriously darling, I'm not exactly young. I can't have a heart attack every time I need to get your attention."

* * *

John and David had spent the past hour going over the details of the evidence Natalie and whoever it was she worked with had collected. Through the variety of sources and little hints David dropped here and there, John was starting to gather she had a much larger team of people involved in her operation than he had initially suspected. As for David, John was forced to admit, though certainly not out loud, that he actually had a valuable perspective on the case and Spencer in general.

A knock on John's office door interrupted David's diatribe on the tools Spencer had employed to frame Duke Buchanan for the initial leak. "Come in," John called, motioning for David to be quiet.

Marty Saybrooke entered and marched to his desk where she thrust a file folder at him.

"What's this?" he asked blankly.

"The psych evaluation you requested on the suspect in the Melton case," she said.

"Anything interesting?" he asked.

"It's all in my report," she said, "I'll let you read it. I don't really know what you're looking for."

While he tried to make sense of her cryptic statement, she turned swiftly and made a quick exit from his office. John knew her well enough to know she was being brusque on purpose. It wasn't as though there weren't plenty of reasons for her to treat him that way, but in the past several years they'd managed to maintain a civil working relationship. He wasn't aware of anything he'd done to damage that again, but regardless, he was willing to apologize for whatever had upset her in the name of not having to deal with her sulking every time work brought them together. Besides, if he was honest, he still felt guilty about the way things had turned out between them and apologizing again just might improve his karma. The least he could do was find out what was bothering her.

Without excusing himself from David, he rose and followed her into the hallway. "Marty," he called after her.

Marty paused and turned to look at him with a deliberately neutral expression on her face.

"What's going on?" he asked walking closer to her so that they wouldn't have to speak loudly.

"I'm on my way to my office," she said, "I have a lot of paperwork I need to finish before my first patient arrives."

"Okay," he nodded, "but before you go, you want to tell me why you're pissed at me?"

"I'm not," she said with poorly feigned ignorance. He didn't say anything, but gave her a look to let her know that her lie hadn't worked. Pursing her lips and clearing her throat she finally said, "Natalie's daughter… I think Kevin said her name was Larisa… did you know about her when we were together?"

"I didn't have any contact with Natalie from the time she left town until recently," he replied.

"I'm a psychiatrist, John," she said, "I'm going to notice when you dodge my questions."

"I wasn't trying to-" he cut himself off before he snapped too harshly at her; this constant analysis had always driven him crazy, "No, I didn't know."

"But you've forgiven her." It wasn't a question; she simply stated the assessment like a diagnosis.

"I wouldn't go that far," he said, fighting to keep his voice even and fighting the urge to tell her it wasn't her business anyway.

"But you will," she said, a hint of sadness creeping into her voice, "you always seem to."

John groaned in frustration. "You always wanted me to be more open and direct," he reminded her, "why don't you give that a try?"

She nodded slowly as though chewing over his words and cleared her throat again. "I had my doubts about you from the very beginning," she said, "and people warned me about you. That you had a habit of breaking hearts. But the one thing I never doubted about you was that you'd make a wonderful father. I never hesitated to let you spend time with Cole, even when I wasn't sure about spending time with you myself."

"I always appreciated that," he nodded.

"But Natalie didn't show you the same consideration. Didn't give you that chance."

"Look," he said, "that whole thing is complicated."

"Oh believe me, I know," she said with a bitter laugh, "I could write an entire book on dysfunctional relationships using the two of you as my example."

John just stared at her for a moment, not really wanting to dignify that last comment with a response. After a weighted silence she sighed and said, "But you two aren't my problem anymore and I really do have to get to the office. Good luck, John."

Wordlessly, feeling less than he knew he ought to over the whole situation, John walked back into his office just in time to see David hurriedly sitting back down in his chair and attempting to pretend he'd been sitting there the entire time. "If you're going to eavesdrop, Vickers, at least try to be subtle about it."

"I don't know what you're talking about!" he said placing a hand on his chest and pretending to be offended.

"Uh huh," John said rolling his eyes as he settled back behind his desk.

"But I am curious," David said slowly, "I don't want to put my foot in something nasty, but… how much has Natalie told you about Larisa?"

"I know she's adopted," he said, guessing at what David really wanted to know.

"Oh good," he said breathing a visible sigh of relief, "I didn't think my niece would deliberately mislead you on that count, but I wasn't sure."

"Okay then, let's get back to this case," he said.

"But then I'm even more curious," David continued, "You didn't tell the good Doctor Saybrooke that you were not the father of the little one."

He shrugged. "She didn't ask."

"But you know what she's thinking," he said, "even _you_ can't be that clueless."

"I'm not," he said, "but frankly it pisses me off that everyone's jumping to that assumption without asking either of us, and it isn't any of their business anyway."

"Right," David said slowly, clearly taken aback by the sudden tongue lashing he'd just received, "glad we're clear on that. How are things with you and Natalie anyway?"

"We're working on a case together," he said through gritted teeth, "beyond that there is no me and Natalie."

"Right," he said again, clearly not buying it, "I'll keep that in mind. You try to keep that in mind too."

"So this computer guy she's called out here," John said, trying to change the subject, "he any good?"

David choked on his seltzer water. "Jim? She invited Jim out here?"

"She didn't give me a name," John said with a shrug of his shoulders.

"If she called a computer guy it was Jim," David said sounding as though he had to steady himself after this shock.

"He a problem?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. David clearly seemed to think there was _something_ wrong with Natalie bringing his guy in.

"Well," David said, his eyes shifting in thought, "he's the best hacker I've ever met and he lost his job and went jail over something Spencer framed him for, so he's motivated. Plus he knows the technical aspect of this case like it was his regular call girl."

"So what's the problem?" he pushed.

"I never said there was a problem," he said innocently.

"Yeah, but the Perrier which almost came shooting out your nose when I mentioned him seems to indicate that there is one."

"Not as far as the case is concerned," David said confidently.

"Then…?"

"I was just surprised to learn he'd left his cave," he said in a tone John still didn't quite trust, "He's one of those geeky computer types. You know, brilliant, but the social skills of an overprotected four year old."

"Right," John nodded, deciding to content himself with this explanation for now, even if he didn't quite believe it, "well we'll let him go down and play with our tech geeks in their cave. You think that will be all right."

"I think that might be for the best," David said shaking his head, "Can you excuse me for a moment? I need to visit the little detective's room."

To be continued…


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's note:** Sorry this chapter is short and not that great. But I promise things will be happening soon. Thanks so much to everyone who's provided feedback on the last chapter. It's wonderful to know that people are enjoying this.

* * *

Natalie stood in the hospital corridor massaging her temples and reminding herself that she couldn't stay angry at her mother long as she was seriously ill. When her cell phone rang she decided to redirect her frustrations at whoever was on the line without checking the caller ID. "What?" she snapped.

"No, that was my question," she heard David's voice say, "I just found out from McBain that you called Jim in on this."

"Jim's been on this," she reminded him.

"But you asked him to come out to Llanview?"

"Yes," she said, "he should be there in a little bit."

"And you don't think that's the worst idea you've had since marrying Mitch Laurence?" David scoffed.

"No," she said, "he understands the computer side of the case—neither you nor me nor John does."

"Right," he said, "but does he have to understand it in person?"

"David," she groaned not even bothering to try to give words to her annoyance.

"Look Natalie," he said starting to sound a little sharp, "You and McBain, you and Jim, all together in one room. You really think that's a good idea?"

"If it gets the case solved," she said.

"Holy Saint Versace," he said, "you're doing this on purpose! This is one of your twisted self-flagellation things!"

"This is me trying to solve the case, David," she said, "I have to go." She could hear David protesting in the background as she flipped the phone shut. Pushing her hair back from her face she noticed Michael McBain standing by the nurse's station looking at a chart.

"Michael," she called out as she made her way towards him.

He looked up at her, somewhat surprised that she was the one addressing him. Without responding verbally he made eye contact, encouraging her to continue whatever she needed to say.

"Can I talk to you for a minute?" she asked.

"Is this about your mom?" he asked.

"Not exactly," she said, twisting her hands nervously.

Nodding curtly he said, "I think it's probably best that we limit our conversations to your mother's condition and care."

He moved as though to walk away, but Natalie stopped him with a hand on his arm. "Look, I'm sorry to bother you, but I need a favor."

"And why should I do _you_ a favor?" he snapped.

Natalie looked genuinely taken aback by his reaction. "We used to be friends once."

"Yeah," he nodded, "that was before you left my brother for another man and broke his heart."

Her eyes dropped. He had every right to react this way. Particularly based on the information he had. "Well it's not really for me," she said, "it's for my daughter."

"Your daughter," he repeated, "your daughter wouldn't happen to be my niece, would she?"

"No," she said shaking her head.

"Better and better," he said under his breath, "so there was yet another guy?"

"She's adopted, jackass," she snapped.

"Adopted?" he repeated.

"Yes," she said, "and she also had major surgery on one of her hip joints seven weeks ago and needs to be in physical therapy. We have an excellent therapist at home, but it looks like I'm going to be stuck here for a while and I'd rather have her here with me. So I was hoping you might be able to recommend a good physical therapist who works well with children."

"Oh," he said, attempting to process what she'd said and feeling the slightest twinge of guilt.

"But you know what?" she said, "Never mind. I'll call her doctors in River Valley and see if they can-"

"Wait," he said with a sigh, "I know a few but it's not something I really know a whole lot about. I'll ask around and see what I can find out. Catch up with me later and I can give you some names."

"Thank you," she said, smiling tensely, "I appreciate it."

"Sorry for snapping at you," he said, "it was unprofessional."

"It's okay," she assured him, scribbling on a card, "You've got plenty of reasons. Let me give you my cell number. Can you call me as soon as you have something?"

"Sure," he said taking it awkwardly from her as she walked away.

* * *

John was listening to David give a diatribe on the nature of corporate espionage, along with a list of dos and don'ts for the would be spy, when there was a knock at the door. It was gentle, almost feminine and John half expected Natalie to open the door. Instead, the face that appeared in response to his "Come in" was a man in his mid-thirties. He was thin but appeared to be in decent shape, good looking if not particularly striking.

"Can I help you?" John asked at the man's somewhat lost expression.

"Excuse me," he said, a slight accent to his voice, "I'm looking for Lieutenant John McBain."

"You found him," David said turning around in his chair.

"Oh David!" the man said smiling, "I didn't see you there." The accent was Slavic, but John couldn't place it precisely.

"Friend of yours?" John asked David, raising an eyebrow.

The man stepped forward to shake John's hand. "I am sorry… Natalie sent me. I am here to help in the investigation."

"You're Jim?" John asked.

The man nodded. John looked at him again with this new piece of information. He certainly didn't seem to fit David's description of the geeky, cave-dwelling computer nerd. His wire framed glasses gave him an intellectual appearance, sure, but they were balanced by tanned skin and the jaw line of a model. What's more he didn't seem to be struggling particularly hard to maintain a pleasant conversation. Whatever it was that really bothered David about this man coming to Llanview it was something other than him being some socially awkward uber-nerd.

"It is nice to meet you," Jim said extending a hand which John shook firmly.

"Natalie seemed to think you'll be able to help us get this case wrapped," he said.

"I hope so," he said, "I know this case is very important to her."

"Have you found anything new since the last time I talked to you?" David asked.

"Nothing earth shattering," he said, "I've been tracing the IP addresses on emails sent from the Buchanan Enterprises offices and-"

"Is that legal?" John interrupted.

David smiled and Jim shifted uncomfortably. "Um… tracing IP addresses is not illegal," Jim stammered, though John couldn't help noticing he'd chosen his words carefully. Something about what he was doing must not be quite legal. "I don't know how much you know about what I've been doing." He asked giving John a questioning look.

"Natalie gave me a file," he explained, "I think it has most of the info in it."

"The person we're looking for began sending messages to high ranking individuals in other corporations several months ago," he began, though John already knew the story, "He didn't say anything directly, but made it very clear he was in a position to access sensitive information about Buchanan Enterprises."

"How did you find this out?" John asked.

"I have some contacts left from my days in business," he said dismissively. John could tell there was more to that as well, but he let him continue. "We contacted him and began posing as a potential buyer. The idea was to help us figure out the spy's identity while keeping the information from getting out into the open. Unfortunately, a short time ago we were outbid by another party."

"You have any idea who that is?" John asked.

"Not yet," he explained, "but I've been monitoring all their communications. Here are my notes." He extended a sheaf of papers towards John which, as far as he could tell, seemed to be a meaningless arrangement of numbers and symbols.

"Yeah, that means nothing to me," John admitted, "Do me a favor—I've got one of our computer guys working on this case already. I'm going to call him up here and-"

"Why make him move?" David asked speaking up, "I'm sure Jim wouldn't mind going to him and then they would have all the computer equipment they're bound to need right there. They can report to you when they have something."

John eyed him closely, David was obviously trying to get Jim out of the room, but he couldn't begin to guess why. For the moment, however, he was willing to play along, if for no other reason than David's suggestion made sense. "Sure, why not?" he said standing up, "I'll have someone take you down there." Opening the door to his office he called to Bo's assistant, "Can you take this gentleman down to Park? Tell him he's working on the BE case and to call me with any questions?"

The receptionist nodded and motioned for Jim to follow her.

John closed the door and turned to David. "Are you ready to tell me what's really going on here?" he asked.

David tilted his head innocently, "Going on with what?"

"Why is it you don't want me around that guy?"

"Who said that?" he asked.

John didn't respond, but gave him a look that made it very clear he wasn't interested in playing games. "Fine," David said, "I just thought it might be awkward, you know. He's an ex-con, you're a cop…"

"You're an ex-con," John pointed out.

"But we're friends."

"No, we're not," John said sinking back into his chair.

"Johnny boy," David said with a sly smile, "It's okay, we're alone. You can admit how you really feel about me."

"Shut up, Vickers," he grumbled turning back to the case file.

* * *

As Natalie made her way into the police station, she couldn't help noticing how strange it felt to be back here after all these years. This place had been so familiar once, but now it was different. Subtle changes to the décor, the layout, the personnel, all reminded her that she didn't belong there anymore.

Crossing the squad room she stopped short at the sound of the familiar voice coming from Bo's office. Before she could plan an escape the door opened and her father stepped out, only a few yards in front of her. It took him a moment to notice her, but when he did his face quickly hardened into a look of disapproval.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded.

"I um…" she stammered.

"This something about your boyfriend?" he asked.

She'd forgotten that as far as most of Llanview still knew, she'd run off with Vincent Jones. "No," she said, "I just came here to see Bo."

He nodded curtly. "Have you seen your mother today?"

"Yeah, I just came from there," she said, leaving out the details of the conversation her and her mother had shared, "she seems to be in better spirits. Maybe more herself."

"I'm on my way over there now," he said, "Don't keep Bo too long. He's very busy."

Natalie bit her lip as he walked away; that was the closest thing to a civil conversation she'd had with Clint since she returned. As much as she knew she had privileged insights into what was really going on, it didn't keep his words from stinging.

"I couldn't help overhearing," Bo said from the doorway to his office.

"He has good reasons to be upset with me," she said trying to shrug it off.

"I suspect he might change his tune if he knew what you'd been doing for this family," he said.

"Maybe," she said.

"So why don't you want him to know what you're up to?" he asked.

"Because I don't want to do it like that," she said, "I don't want to feel like I'm doing this to make my father like me."

"He loves you, Nat," Bo reminded her gently, "no matter what you've done, you're his baby."

She shook her head. "I'm his youngest child. Jessica's his baby."

"Things haven't been easy for you," he said, "you two really haven't had much time together. But-"

"Uncle Bo, I appreciate what you're trying to do," she interjected, "but really, I'm fine with the way things are. And I need to get back to work so we can finish this case for everyone involved."

She made her way into John's office, where he was reading over a file and David was fidgeting with things on the desk. "What's going on?" she asked.

"It's hardly business as usual," John said glaring at David, "but not much is going on so far. How's your mom?"

"Recovered enough to emotionally blackmail her children," she grumbled, flopping wearily into the empty chair.

"I knew Viki must have learned something from our friendship!" David said, sounding delighted, "And the death's door ploy works every time. What's she trying to get you to do?"

"I don't want to talk about it," Natalie said.

"Here," John said, not really acknowledging anything she'd said, and sliding a stack of folders towards her, "these are the department files for each of the break-ins. I want you to look them over and see if you find anything we missed."

"Okay," she said opening the first one. She sat reading in silence while John stared at pages he'd read multiple times, hoping something new would jump out at him and David began filing his nails.

After several minutes there was a knock on the door. John recognized it as Jim's knock and called for him to come in. Sticking just his head in Jim began, "Officer Park was wondering if-" He cut himself off when he noticed Natalie and his face broke into a grin, "Natalie!"

"Hey Jim," she said allowing him to pull her up into a bear hug.

"It is good to see you," he said, pulling back slightly, his hands still on her shoulders, "how are you, beautiful?"

"I'm fine," she lied.

"Are you sure?" he asked, "you're shoulders are tense like rocks." Without asking permission or waiting on an invitation he spun her around and began massaging her shoulders. Natalie sighed and relaxed visibly under his touch.

And that's when John noticed it. Instantly he realized what David had been so worried about. It wasn't the action itself, but the way they physically related to each other. A manner he'd learned to recognize in all the years of investigative work. A complete lack of shyness and physical curiosity. Something that only happened when a man and woman had intimate knowledge of each other's bodies.

To be continued…


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimers:** They're not mine, I don't want them!

**Author's note: **Not a lot of action in this chapter, but it does things it needs to do.

* * *

The next morning Natalie and Larisa arrived at the Angel Square Diner to meet Rex for breakfast; he'd been pestering her to hang out since her return. That was one of the strange things about being back in Llanview—while she'd been gone for so many years, she'd managed to close her mind to everything and everyone she was missing. Now everywhere she went in Llanview she seemed to bump into someone she'd known who seemed desperate to catch up, share a meal or a drink. It was actually becoming stressful trying to fit all of them in around visiting her mother in the hospital and working on the case with John. Not that she wasn't thrilled to get to spend time with her brother, but…

"Natalie!" Carlota shrieked as they walked through the door.

"Hi Carlota," Natalie said smiling as the older woman threw her arms around her.

"I heard you were back in town, but I couldn't really believe it until I saw you myself. How's your mother?"

"She's doing better, I think," Natalie said, omitting the details of her last conversation with her mother.

"And how are you?" Carlota said, affectionately touching her former daughter-in-law's now brown hair.

"I'm okay," she said, forcing another smile. Thankfully, Carlota didn't press for details.

"Well, hello there!" she said looking down at Larisa who smile shyly, "You must be the beautiful little girl Kevin and Kelly were talking about."

Natalie nodded proudly, "It is! Larisa, can you say hello to Ms. Carlota?"

Larisa mumbled something that was close enough to hello for all parties interested. "How's Cristian doing?" Natalie asked, turning her attention back to Carlota.

"Great," she said, "he loves it in Florida. He keeps trying to get me to move down there, but even though the weather sounds wonderful, I don't want to leave this place."

"It's not easy," Natalie said knowingly. Forcing herself to keep the conversation light she said, "If you talk to him, tell him I said, 'hi.' I read that article about him that came out last year—sounds like he's doing great stuff."

"I will," she said, then excusing herself politely she said, "Well, I have customers."

As Natalie directed Larisa to the table where Rex was waiting already, she couldn't help thinking about how differently her relationships with Cristian and John had evolved. She had been married to Cristian. They'd gone through some rough times, some moments of hating each other. But now, though she hadn't seen him in years, things were easy enough between them that she felt comfortable chatting with his mother.

John, on the other hand… they'd never been married. Never, in all the times they'd gotten together, had they managed to make it that far. And five years after their last break up it was sometimes hard to be in the same room with him, much less have a pleasant conversation. Somehow she didn't think his mother would be excited to see her. Well, she reminded herself, she really only had herself to blame for that.

"Good morning!" Rex said brightly as they approached, "How are my two favorite ladies this morning?"

"I'm okay," Natalie said, though she suspected Rex knew she was lying.

"And what about you?" he said directing himself to Larisa. Larisa shrugged her shoulders mutely as she slid into the booth.

"How's Viki?" he asked as the waitress poured coffee for him and Natalie.

"I don't know," she said, not feeling the need to put on the same pretense for Rex that she had for Carlota, "she seems a little bit better, maybe. But that could just be wishful thinking. The doctor's say she's not out of the woods yet."

"Viki's tough," he said, "she's gotten though worse than this. She'll make it through."

Natalie took a slow sip from her coffee and debated whether to bring up the next topic of conversation. She didn't want to get Rex's hopes up, but she needed to talk about it with someone she could trust to give her honest answers. The waitress came and took their orders and Natalie waited until she was gone to speak again. "She wants me to move back here," she said.

"Of course, she wants you to move back here," he said, "she's your mom."

"She's pushing," she added, "I mean really pushing. Hell, she's being downright manipulative."

"Viki?" Rex asked in surprise.

"I know," she said, "and it's not fair, because she knows I can't be mad at her while she's in the ICU, but… she makes some good points."

"Like…?"

"Like I don't know how much longer she'll be around," she said, "and I'd like for Larisa to get to know her. And I miss the rest of my family too."

"There's no rule saying you can't come to visit more than once every five years," he pointed out.

"I know," she sighed, "but it won't be the same as living here."

"Do you think you can do from here what you left here to do five years ago?" Rex was tactful enough not to say out loud in the diner that she'd left to look for Rhiannon, but they both understood what he was talking about perfectly.

Natalie sighed. "It's been five years, Rex. And I'm no closer. At what point does giving up become the only reasonable course of action."

"Never," he said without hesitation. She looked up at him, slightly startled by the intensity of his declaration. "I know you, sis," he continued, "You're not going to give this up. And you shouldn't. But that wasn't all that kept you away all these years."

"No," she said looking down at her coffee cup.

"So…?" he said, seeking out her eyes, "how's that going? I gather you two have been spending some time together."

"We're working together on something," she said.

"And…?"

"He knows," she explained, "the real reason I left."

"Have you told anyone else?" he asked.

"No," she said, "Bo knows the Vincent thing was a lie and I'm pretty sure Jess knows there's more going on than I've told her, but he's the only one I told the truth to."

"How did he take it?"

Natalie stared over his shoulder into the distance. "I think he was better off believing I was with Vincent."

Rex furrowed his brow. "Why do you say that?"

"Well, he's mad that I lied to him," she explained, "mad that I didn't ask for his help. But knowing him, it was easier to hate me the other way. Now I think he feels guilty that I didn't think I could come to him, guilty that he never looked for me... It's just like I said back then—I think the truth hurt him worse than a lie."

He mulled this over a little and said, "I don't want to sound insensitive, but why does it matter if you hurt him? How many times did he hurt you?"

"Rex-" she started to protest.

"I mean, I'm not saying go out of your way to hurt the guy," he said, "but I don't think you need to be beating yourself up about it either."

Natalie didn't say anything, but pretended to become very absorbed in a piece of Larisa's hair that had escaped the clips holding it back. Rex left it alone until after the waitress had dropped of their food. "Natalie, I want you to tell me honestly," he said, "is this just guilt your feeling where McBain's concerned or is there something else?"

Natalie gave him a dirty look which made it very clear she didn't want to have this conversation, but answered nonetheless. "I have a lot of feelings for him," she said, "I always have. They haven't gone away, but that doesn't mean I'm going to act on them. Us being together always ends in disaster and heartbreak and I can't do that again. I have others to think about."

He took a slow bite of his pancakes and studied her face as though he was waiting for her to crack. "Okay," he nodded, though it was clear he didn't quite believe her.

* * *

Across town in the far swankier Palace Dining room David Vickers and the computer geek known thus far only as Jim were also sitting down to breakfast. "So that man," Jim asked, "that policeman, he's the one you talked about?"

"The one Natalie's had a decade long sick fixation with? Yes," David said buttering a piece of toast.

"And you think it is a good idea?" he asked taking a sip of his coffee, "her working with this man?"

"I think it's necessary," David said with a sigh, "I don't think Natalie will rest until she gets this case solved and I don't think we can solve it without him."

"We have gotten very far on our own," Jim pointed out, seeming to take David's insinuation that John was necessary as a personal affront.

"Maybe," he admitted, "but we've gotten there slowly. And at this rate we might not find the spy until after the sale's been made, which almost defeats the purpose. McBain might be a horse's ass with no fashion sense, but he's a good detective. And in that respect, he and Natalie have always made a good team. Did I ever tell you about how they tracked down the gun I fired at McBain's father twenty-five years earlier to prove my innocence?"

"You were shooting blanks," Jim said rolling his eyes, "yes, you've told me. But do you think Natalie will be all right? From what you've told me…"

David downed the rest of his mimosa and motioned for the waiter to bring him another. "You remember what Natalie was like when you first met her?"

"Trying to get herself killed?"

David nodded. "From what I can tell, she's kind of in the same kind of place again. Only instead of physical annihilation, she's taking more of a psychological approach this time around. To be honest, and I do not mean this to demean your skills in any way, I think that's the whole reason she asked you out here."

Jim's lips pursed in thought. "I don't understand."

"I think she's afraid he might forgive her and that if he did, she might not be able to resist him," David explained, "McBain's certainly forgiven her for plenty of crazy impulsive things in the past. Not that any of them really compare with some of the things she's forgiven him for, but that's beside the point. When she left him the last time, she told him it was for another man because she knew that was the only way to keep him from following her. She said it was the one thing he wouldn't forgive. He knows that's a lie now and I think she knows, or at least thinks she knows, that the one thing he won't be able to forgive her for is you."

Jim tilted his head slightly to the side. "But…"

David cut him off with a shake of his head. "I know. But if there's one thing both of those idiots has always been lousy with, it's rational thought."

* * *

Jessica Buchanan could still remember the day her parents told her they were getting divorced. For a while it had been impossible to wrap her brain around. How could her parents, who loved each other so much, and had been together for so long through so much, separate? Then she'd become angry, blaming first her mother and then her father. In then end, however, her way of coping was trying desperately to reunite her parents and hold her family together in anyway she could.

More than twenty years later, she was still the family peace maker. No, she'd never quite managed to get her parents back together, but she'd never given up hope either. But it was more than just her parents. With all the quarrels the various members of her family had, she was the one person who almost always remained on speaking terms with all of them. She could balance Kevin and Todd and make them behave in the same room together—something even her mother could barely manage. If Kevin and Kelly had a marital spat, half the time they would each call Jessica separately and she'd manage to smooth things over between them.

Sure things had been tense with Natalie when she first came to town, but they'd gotten over it more quickly than anyone had anticipated. Mostly because Jessica just felt peace was better than the alternative.

Her family had become more and more geographically dispersed in recent years, and she tried to pretend that didn't bother her, but it had always been a lie. And now everyone was back; even if it was under the worst circumstances, they were together. Was it too much to hope that something positive could come out of that?

Apparently.

Her father was lashing out at Natalie at every opportunity and, more disturbing, Natalie was taking it. Kevin and Todd were… well Kevin and Todd and her sister was keeping everyone as shut out of her present life as possible with no explanation why. Her mother was recovering, but what would she recover too?

Jessica Buchanan, perpetual peacemaker had no idea what to do.

Leaving her mother's room that morning she prayed for guidance. Instead she was greeted by Michael McBain. "Jessica!" he called waving her over.

She wasn't thrilled to see him; she had no real reason to dislike him other than he was John's brother and John had hurt her sister on numerous occasions. Not to mention, she gathered that Michael was a frequent supporter of John with anyone but Natalie; she might not like Natalie with John, but who was Michael to imply there was something wrong with Natalie?

"What?" she asked, sounding unnecessarily impatient.

"Can you give this to Natalie?" he asked, handing her a folded piece of paper.

"What is it?" she asked opening it and scanning it quickly.

"Well it was for Natalie," he began, irritated with Jessica for reading something that wasn't her business. "It's a list of physical therapists who specialize in pediatrics. She asked me to pull it for her."

"Oh," she said, refolding it, "you know, it looks like Natalie might be in town a while."

"That's what she said," Michael nodded.

"Maybe a long while if my mom has her way," she continued.

"Really?" he said, clearly confused as to what Jessica was getting at.

"And the way I see it, there's only one real impediment to her moving here permanently," she said folding her arms across her chest as though she were expecting a fight.

"Her job?" Michael guessed.

"Your brother," she said.

"Oh whatever," he snorted, "as though John has ever been able to stop Natalie from doing anything she wanted."

"Most of the time when Natalie's been around John she's forgotten she's _allowed_ to want anything of her own."

"What's your point, Jessica?" he groaned, eager to end this conversation and get back to work.

"My point is," she said, "They've been spending a lot of time together."

"I gathered," he said.

"They seem to have some sort of secret-do you know what it's about?" she asked.

"Not a clue," he said.

"Well it can't be good," she said sharply.

"Is anything going on between those two ever good?" Michael asked with a humorless laugh.

"Not much, no," Jessica said, "so I think it's clear what we have to do."

"What _we_ have to do?" he repeated.

"We need to do everything we can to keep them apart," she said.

"Jessica, I don't want to get involved-"

"I've heard you talk enough trash about my sister to know you don't want her anywhere near your brother," she reminded him.

"That's true," he admitted without flinching, "I think she's toxic for him."

"And I think he's dangerous for her," she said, "almost every time something terrible has happened to her it's been because of or beside him."

"He told me they're not involved right now," he said, seeking to assure her.

Jessica snorted in response. "How many times have we heard that?" she asked. Michael started to answer, but she cut him off. "The whole time he was with Evangeline and they just kept happening to wind up in each other's business all the time? He kept saying she was just a friend, right? And when Natalie was helping John track down your father's killer, it was just because they were friends, right? How did things end up then?"

"Okay," he said, "we can't rely on them using self-control or good judgment, but how do you suggest we keep them away from each other. I mean, you'd think based on their history, common sense would be enough to do it, but…"

"I don't know," she sighed, "keep them occupied, I guess. Discourage interaction whenever we can."

"It would help if we could figure out what this secret they have is," he mused.

"Agreed," she nodded, "do you think you can get John to tell you?"

"Getting my brother to talk about anything's not easy," he reminded her, "but I'll try. You'll probably have an easier time getting Natalie to talk."

"I would have said that before," she said shaking her head, "these days I can't get her to give me her address… Unless…"

"Unless?"

"I have her daughter and her nanny staying in my house," she said, "kids overhear things…"

Michael stared at her in shock. "You would really pump your niece for information."

Jessica smiled grimly. "For the greater good, Michael. I'm just thinking about my family. Speaking of which…"

"What?" Michael asked when she trailed off, clearly thinking about something.

"I may not have to use Larisa," she said, "David Vickers is back in town and seems to know more than he ought to about where Natalie is. And if there's anything David's good at, it's talking more than he should."

"You think he knows what John and Nat are up to?"

"If he does, I'll find out," she said, sounding every bit the self-assured reporter, "Give me twenty-four hours, thirty-six tops. You find out what you can and get back to me."

"Okay," Michael said uneasily. With that, Jessica walked away, her high heels clicking rhythmically, completely unaware of Michael's discomfort with the situation. He was a doctor, not a reporter or a detective—he wasn't supposed to be doing things like this. Not to mention, John would likely kill him if he found out. But he tried to remind himself of Jessica's words… 'for the greater good… just thinking about my family…'

* * *

As John explained the situation to his old FBI colleague, he reminded himself this was a terrible idea. None of his business. He should really just stay out of Natalie's life. That didn't stop him. Michael would accuse him of getting dragged back into her madness. That had been his almost constant implication since he first heard of her return.

And maybe he was. But he seemed almost powerless to stop himself. He had always had that problem where she was concerned.

"Thanks, Warren," he said, "so you'll let me know as soon as you find anything? Thanks. Let me give you my cell number too-"

Hanging up the phone he couldn't help wondering how Natalie would react when and if he got the information he was looking for. Would she be grateful? Or would she resent his interference? Would she understand why he'd done it? Did she realize how deep his need to help and protect her ran, no matter how much anger he might still feel towards her?

Ah well, those were questions he would only be able to answer when the time came. For now, he could only deal with the matters at hand. He picked up the phone again.

Then he hesitated. He wondered if she would be alone when he called and, if not, who she would be with. Why should he be surprised that she had found someone else in the five years they had been apart? He hadn't exactly been celibate himself, though nothing since Natalie had lasted very long. He wondered how long she had been with Jim and how serious their relationship was… He'd never been at her apartment the times John had shown up, did that mean something?

He couldn't stop himself from wondering… had she told Jim the secrets she could never tell him? Had she let him hold her over these past years when she wouldn't let anyone else who loved her come close? Gritting his teeth he forced himself to stop wondering and dialed the number.

To be continued...


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimers: **Still not mine.

**Author's note:** One last chapter where not much happens before the action picks up, I promise. Thanks for all the feedback, so glad people are still interested in this story.

* * *

Natalie's phone rang. She glanced at the caller ID and rolled her eyes in response to Rex's questioning look. "Hello?"

"I need you to come to the station," John's voice said, "There's something we need to talk about."

"I'm in the middle of breakfast," she said looking down at her mostly full plate, "can it wait?"

"It's important," he pressed.

"Fine," she sighed, "I'm out with Larisa though, so you're going to have to wait for me to take her back to Jessica's."

"I can take her," Rex volunteered.

Natalie looked at him reluctantly; she hated to ask this of him and the truth was she didn't surrender Larisa to anyone else easily. But she knew she could trust Rex and John wouldn't call if it wasn't important. She covered the mouthpiece of her phone and turned to Larisa. "Is that okay with you, if you go with your Uncle Rex?"

Larisa looked Rex over once herself, then nodded decisively.

"Okay," Natalie said, speaking to John again, "I'll be there in a minute."

"All right," Natalie said striding into John's office a few minutes later, "What's so important I couldn't finish breakfast?"

"I need to talk to you about your computer guy," he said.

"What about him?" she asked.

"I need more information about him," he said.

"Why?" she asked, irritated he'd called her down for information she could have given him over the phone.

"Look it's questionable enough me sharing department information with you and Vickers," he said, "I know you two. I have no idea who this Jim guy is."

"You can trust him, John," she said, "I can personally vouch for him."

"Well forgive me if I have a hard time taking everything you say at face value," he said, "I just found out you lied to me about some pretty serious stuff."

Natalie bristled visibly at his reminder, but responded with, "Fine. What do you want to know?"

"Well for starters, having heard that accent I have a hard time believing his name is Jim," he said.

"There you go with your keen detective skills, John," she replied with a smirk, "you're absolutely correct. Jim is Latvian by birth though I understand he's ethnically Russian. Jim is an acronym. His full name is Jurgis Ivanovich Morozov which he says he gets tired of listening to us Americans try to pronounce."

"Can you spell that?" John asked raising an eyebrow.

Glaring at him, she snatched a piece of paper off his desk and wrote it down. "What? Are you going to run a background check on him?"

"Is that unreasonable?" he asked. He knew she knew police procedure, not to mention him, well enough that she ought to expect this, but she was clearly irritated. Was it just part of the dance they'd been doing since she showed up, or did she believe that this guy deserved special treatment because of his relationship with her.

"No," she said folding her hands across her chest in a confrontational manner, "but if you ask nicely, I can save you some time and just give you the stuff I dug up on him before I started working with him."

"You ran a background check on him?" he asked not sure whether to be impressed or surprised.

"I may be a liar, John, but I'm not an idiot," she snipped.

"Okay," he said leaning back, though they both knew he wasn't going to be content with her word alone on any of this, "what do you know?"

"For starters, you should know, we tracked him down," she began, "it was David's idea. We came across his name while we were following Spencer's trail and we figured out pretty quickly that Spencer had probably set him up. Neither David nor I know much about computers and we needed someone who did. David insisted that common hatred was the fastest way to build an alliance and thought having a guy who knew computers and hated Spencer was the way to go."

"I guess that makes a certain Vickers kind of sense," he nodded.

"So I checked him out—he moved from Latvia to Canada when he was a teenager and then came to the States for college. Now a US citizen. Arrested for embezzlement that was really done by Spencer Truman. That's it in a nutshell."

"How long have you been together?" he asked, not daring to meet her eyes as he did so.

He could have simply been asking about their working relationship, but studying his body language and the derision with which he said 'together', Natalie knew exactly what he meant. She swore under her breath. "That's what this is really about, isn't it?" she asked, "What? Did David tell you?"

"He didn't have to," he said, his anger rising immediately to meet hers, "you two were pretty obvious yesterday."

"So you just decided to jump to conclusions without bothering to ask me?" she asked.

"Sounds like I was dead on," he said.

"No," she informed him, "not really."

"Oh," he scoffed, "you're going to tell me you're not sleeping with him?"

"Present tense?" she said, "no."

"But you have?"

"Not that it's any of your business," she said through gritted teeth, "but yes."

"And you don't think you should have let me know that when you invited him down here?" he demanded.

"Why would I tell you that?" she asked, "have you informed me of everyone you've had sex with in the past five years?"

"It affects his ability to do his job," he said.

"His having had sex with me, years ago, by the way, affects his ability to hack into a computer?"

"I saw the way he was with you yesterday-"

"He's a flirt, John," she insisted, "he's that way with every female."

"You don't think he would like to get back with you? Because from what I saw-"

"I think his wife might have a problem with it," she said cutting him off.

"Wife?" he repeated. That was unexpected, but how much did that really mean?

"Yes," she sighed, "and don't look at me like that, he wasn't married when we got together."

"I wasn't implying-"

"Yes, you were," she snapped, but then softened, "and I can't really blame you, given what I did to you. But believe it or not, flirt though he is, he loves his wife and would never cheat on her. And not that you bothered asking, but he never loved me."

He looked down at the desk realizing how out of line he had been. Not only was he wrong, it had nothing to do with the case and her personal life wasn't his anymore. "You're right," he said, "It's none of my business."

"No, it's not," she said, "but you're going to wonder until I tell you, so here it is. He and I haven't been together that way for three years. When we were together it was… I'm not asking you to pity me, but you have to understand, I had just walked away from everyone I loved to find a daughter I never knew. And I'd been searching for her for almost two years and found nothing. I was in a really bad place."

He was starting to get the picture, and if she was trying to make him feel better about the situation she was failing. The last thing he wanted to hear was that Jim had been there for her to lean on when she really needed someone. "He was there for you?" he supplied.

"He was in the same place," she explained, "Spencer Truman had embezzled close to a million dollars and framed him for it. He'd lost everything too. Not just his job or the years he spent in prison—his friends, family, they all believed the worst of him. We were just two really lonely people who happened to be in the same place at the same time. So we made each other feel a little better on the only level we could."

She put a nice gloss on it, but it sounded to him like Jim had taken advantage of the situation. He knew that if he pointed that out to her, she'd tell him he was wrong—she would never want to admit she'd been that vulnerable. Instead he said, "Thanks for telling me that. I'm sorry for bringing it up."

"Yeah," she said, "maybe next time if you have a question about something, you can just ask in a civil manner like normal people do."

"Right," he nodded, "I'm sorry for calling you in the middle of breakfast."

"Yeah," she said, "well I'm here now, so is there something I can do?"

He handed her a stack of folders from his desk. "These are all the interviews our guys did with the people at the BE offices after your break-ins. It's a long shot, but I was thinking maybe you could look at the language, see if anything looks familiar."

"Yeah, I can do that," she said with a hint of a groan pulling them into her lap and opening the first one.

Ten minutes later she was still in the same position when, without knocking, David and Jim walked into the office. "Hey you two crazy kids," David said brightly, "anything new to report?"

"Not yet," Natalie mumbled without looking up.

"Where have you two been all morning?" John asked with exaggerated irritation. Natalie glanced at her watch at this comment, noting to herself it was not yet 10:00.

"We were at the Palace having breakfast," David said, clearly feeling no guilt at the time of his arrival, "Renee still does a lovely job with the menu there, and now that I'm her illegitimate stepson she doesn't kick me out like she used to."

"Funny," John said directing a steely glare at Jim, "I was under the impression that you were here to work."

"Well this isn't where I would choose for vacation," Jim said with a raised eyebrow.

"Then try getting here at a decent hour so we can get this done," he suggested.

Jim contemplated this seriously for a minute then said, "I see. So you find it is easier to catch criminals early in the morning? I had always heard the best time was late at night because many of them are scared of the dark."

"Cute," John said. As he made another sarcastic retort David and Natalie exchanged a look. It was obvious what was going on here; John and Jim had figured out each other's history with Natalie and each was, therefore, determined to prove his superiority to the other. David made the strategic decision to settle into the nearest chair and watch the verbal sparring with amusement. Natalie, not in the least impressed with either of her former lovers, decided to tune them all out and return to the files.

After several minutes she spoke up suddenly. "Wait a minute! I think I found something!"

All other conversation instantly dropped, the three men in the room turned to her expectantly. "The third break-in," she said, "I'm looking at the report and it says a small file cabinet in the office of someone named Grace Ellery was broken into and a couple of files and a gold watch were taken. I didn't do that."

"The watch?" John clarified.

"Any of it," she said, "I did take small things here and there to throw off suspicion about what I was up to—by the way we have those, I can give them back to you."

"Um…" David said clearing his throat, "you have most of those."

John and Natalie both gave him a look of exasperation, but decided to deal with his tendency towards kleptomania later. "The point is," she said, "I was never even _in_ that office."

"You're sure?" John asked making a note of this.

"Positive," she said, clearly getting excited to have found this new piece of evidence.

"So you think this Grace Ellery," Jim said, "she must have something to do with this."

"I don't think so," John said, "Ellery's only been with BE about two years, so if you all are so convinced this is Truman's spy, it can't be her."

"You have all this information memorized on all the personnel?" Jim asked dubiously.

"All the ones we interviewed," he said smugly, "I make it my business to know my cases."

Eager to head off a further display of machismo between the two men, Natalie asked quickly, "Where does she work?"

"Legal," John said, "contracts, specifically."

"So either she's an accomplice or our spy used the break in as an opportunity to get something he wouldn't have ordinarily had access to," David said, articulating what they were all thinking.

The office which had moments ago been filled with tension between John and Jim quickly became a flurry of speculations and suggestions as notes were made and files were reopened to be reexamined based on this bit of evidence.

* * *

Clint Buchanan's family had never been anything close to normal. His father had been married more times than most could count and had left illegitimate sons scattered halfway across the country that always seemed to appear at the strangest moments. Clint himself had married a woman with enough personalities to nearly equal the number of his father's wives. He had himself fathered an illegitimate son as a teenager who he never learned about until the boy was a grown man.

But one of the most surreal twists in his family life had been receiving a phone call in London informing him that the daughter he had raised and loved as his own for twenty years was never really his at all. To further complicate matters, he was informed that his biological daughter did, in fact, exist, but was a complete stranger who had appeared in Llanview out of the blue.

Having no idea how to deal with such a situation, Clint Buchanan had made the perhaps questionable decision to simply not deal with it. So he postponed meeting his long lost daughter until it had truly become unavoidable. And if he was honest, he couldn't say he'd ever gotten to know her.

And all this he might have been able to justify to himself as unavoidable, had his own brother not managed to form such a strong bond with her.

He knocked on Bo's door and let himself in when he heard his brother's instruction to do so. Bo looked up, not entirely surprised to see his brother, and smiled warmly. "Hey Clint, what brings you here?"

"Oh, I was just stopping by," he said, settling uneasily into one of the empty chairs.

"Uh huh," Bo said. He knew exactly why Clint was there, the same reason he suspected he'd 'just stopped by' several times since Natalie's return, but he wasn't about to give him answers to questions he wouldn't bring himself to ask. "How's Viki doing?"

"The doctor's think she may be doing a little better today," he said, "her body's showing some signs of beating this virus, so…"

"That's good," Bo said, genuinely happy to hear it.

A moment of awkward silence hung heavily in the air until Clint managed to ask, "Any word on the investigation of those break-ins at BE?"

"We're working on it," Bo said, omitting any details as to how exactly they were working on it. He knew his brother wouldn't know enough to ask for further elaboration.

"I appreciate that," he said.

"It is our job," his brother replied, unable to hide the smile that appeared on his face.

"I know," Clint said, "but…" He trailed off, clearly searching for something to say.

Partially because he couldn't take the awkwardness anymore, and partially because he had better things to do than watch his brother fiddle with the paperweights on his desk, Bo finally took pity on him. "So how many times are you going to come here before you finally get up the gumption to ask me what you really want to?"

Clint looked startled. "What are you talking about? I was at the hospital, I was going to the Diner for lunch, this place is on the way-"

"You drive past this place all the time and don't come in," he pointed out, "are you going to tell me it's a coincidence that these little visits started after Natalie showed up?"

He looked as though he were about to protest, but gave up before he even opened his mouth. "I could tell you that," he said, "but we both know it'd be a lie."

"So you want to talk about it?" he asked.

"I don't know what there is to say, really," he said with a sigh.

"Your daughter's back," Bo pointed out, "for five years you had no idea where she was or if she was even okay. And now you not only have her back, but you have another grandchild."

"I know," he said, "and I know everyone else is thrilled about it."

"But not you?" Bo said, though the question was unnecessary, Clint's emotions were obvious enough.

"Don't get me wrong, Bo," he said, "I am glad to know she's all right. I'm elated to find out I have another granddaughter. But the kid acts afraid of me so I haven't so much as gotten to talk to her."

"She seems a little shy," his brother acknowledged.

"And she has no idea who I am," he added, "because for some reason her mother thought running around God knows where with a criminal was more important that letting her daughter get to know her family."

"I don't know if that's exactly an accurate assessment," Bo said. He didn't want to say too much—Natalie hadn't given him permission to say anything and he really wasn't sure of all the details himself, but he hated to continue letting his brother believe something he knew was off base.

Clint shook his head, ignoring his brother's comment. "You know, Jessica, Viki, even Kevin and Joe—they're all ready to welcome her back with open arms. But I'm sorry, I can't just forget that she turned her back on our family."

Bo nodded slowly, thoughtfully. "Do you mind if I play devil's advocate for a minute?" he asked.

"Go ahead," his brother said with a groan; he should have known it was too much to ask that his brother stop being a cop for this conversation.

"If you'll recall, you up and left this family to move to another continent for a number of years."

Clint's eyes widened at the comparison. "That was for work. For the family business. And I told people where I was going, I stayed in touch the whole time."

"I wasn't saying it was the same thing," he assured him, "what I was getting to was, she _did _come back the minute she found out Viki was sick."

"I'll give her credit for that, but-"

"Can you say that you did the same?" Bo asked.

His brow furrowed as he tried to decipher what he was being asked. "I was here in town when it happened."

Bo shook his head. "What I mean was, while you were gone, did you immediately come home for every family crisis?"

"Most of the time," he said.

"Really?" he said skeptically, "So when Viki called and said you had a daughter you never knew-"

"I know I didn't come immediately when I found out about Natalie," he said, "but I didn't want to overwhelm her. She had so much to deal with already."

"You didn't think she might _want_ to be overwhelmed with attention from the father she'd never met?" As Clint contemplated this, he continued, "And when Natalie had been kidnapped by Hayes Barber and had been missing for weeks?"

"What good was my coming out there going to do?" he shot back, "I knew you and John McBain are damn good at what you do and I knew you'd find her. I'd have just been in the way."

"We barely found her in time," Bo reminded him, "it could have easily gone the other way."

"I had faith in you," he said.

"You were burying your head in the sand!" Bo said raising his voice slightly. "The way you always have where she's concerned. The way you do with everything with this family that you don't want to deal with."

"I do not-"

"Look, Clint," he said, "You want to know why Viki and Jess and Kevin and whoever else can look past Natalie leaving and just be happy she's home? It's because they bothered to get to know her in the first place."

"It's not as if I didn't try," he said, a guilty look creeping on to his face, "She didn't exactly make it easy."

"It wasn't her job to make it easy, Clint," he said shaking his head, "she's your kid. It's your job to do the work if you have to."

Clint was silent for several minutes as he thought this over; his younger brother could visibly see him struggling with his emotions, and that wasn't something good ol' boys from Texas generally let show. "So what do I do now?"

"I can't tell you that," Bo said, "but you have been given another chance. And I _can_ tell you that if I had another chance with Drew… well you'd better believe I wouldn't let that pass me by."

He nodded solemnly. "You've got a point there."

Before Bo could offer the words of assurance he fully intended to offer, there was a knock on the door. "Come in," Bo called out with a sigh.

John stuck his head in; in the open door behind him Natalie, David, and a man neither Clint nor Bo recognized could be seen. "We have something to show you," John said opening the door wider. Both John and Natalie noticed who was in the office at the same moment. "If we're interrupting-" John said.

"No, no," Clint assured him. Nodding in his daughter's direction despite his confusion over seeing her there he said, "Natalie."

"Hi," she said, her face blanching.

"What's going on?" her father asked.

Natalie's mouth moved as though she were trying to form an answer, but before she managed to get a word out her phone rang. "One second," she said turning to answer it with a mixture of embarrassment and relief. "What's up?" she asked, "What happened? … Oh no… No, it's okay, you didn't mean for that to happen… Yeah, I'll come meet you… Yeah… Okay, I'll see you in a second, try to calm her down. Tell her I'm on my way."

"Something happen with Viki?" Clint asked anxiously as she shut her phone.

"No," she said with a sigh, "Rex tried to take Larisa to the hospital to meet up with Jess and see Mom, but she got upset." Turning to John, she said, "I need to go get her."

"I understand," he said.

"You can fill Bo in, right?"

"Yeah," John said.

"I'll see you all later," she said, scurrying away as quickly as she could.

"What was that about?" Clint asked when she was gone, "What's Natalie doing here anyway?"

John looked down at the floor while David made a production of whistling and avoiding eye contact. His brother, on the other hand, gave him a meaningful look. "I guess you're going to have to ask your daughter," he said.

To be continued…


End file.
